The Sun, the Moon, and the Sky
by Quinnlove202
Summary: Once Upon A Time AU. The beginning of the Unholy Trinity in Storybrooke. Eventual Quinntana.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Been trying to catch up on Once Upon a Time lately and this plot bunny wouldn't go away. This isn't a crossover with the show, I'm just borrowing the setting and premise. No OUAT characters make an appearance. **

**I don't say it outright, but I give a bunch of hints as to who their fairytale alter egos are. If you know your Once Upon a Time/Disney, it should be easy to figure out. If not, you'll soon find out next chapter.  
**

**To those who are unsure, from what I've been told, you don't need to have had watched OUAT to understand this story.**

**As always, read. enjoy. review!**

* * *

Snow.

She fucking hates snow.

And ice.

Winter in general, really.

Santana stares out the frosted window, glaring in contempt at all the marshmallow fluff people called snow outside. It was everywhere. Seriously. There wasn't a single surface that didn't look like it'd been barfed on by the abominable snowman.

It was disgusting. Give her summer any day. Or spring. Hell she'd even settle for autumn. Anything that wasn't _this_.

Santana shifts restlessly and removes her gaze. She's just fucking glad she wasn't out there now. Although once school was out she was gonna have to trek through that shit to get to work and she was not looking forward to it, to say the least.

Goddamn. She can't help but steal another scathing glance at the loathsome sight. The weather was just one of the many things she hated about this stupid town. Arguably it was the worst part about living in Storybrooke, especially around this time of year, but to Santana, the snow doesn't even compare to the unbearable monotony plaguing the town.

Every day here felt the same. _Was_ the same. Every single day. And as of late, it was a fact that was really starting to bother her.

(What made matters worse was knowing she was the only person who felt that way).

Hell. Just thinking about how fucking uneventful and dull as shit this place was made her want to burst out of her skin and attack something.

"Santana."

Her head snaps up, startled out of her daze. "Yeah?"

From behind her canvas, Brittany looks at her with concern. When her gaze flickers, Santana looks down and quickly realizes she'd snapped the pencil she'd been apparently holding. Whoops.

"You alright, San?"

"Fine." she murmurs, releasing the flimsy piece of wood with dismay. She silently shakes her head of all previous thoughts and after taking a moment to recollect herself, glances down at the still blank piece of paper in front of her. "My English paper doesn't seem to want to write itself today."

She leans back in her chair and slouches, folding her arms across her chest. She exhales deeply. She's bored and therefore in a mood, but she doesn't want to risk taking it out on Brittany, her being the only one here and all, so she takes a metaphorical step back.

Her temperament's been all out of whack lately. Probably meant she's getting her period soon...

"Then work on it another day." Brittany resolves easily enough, stepping back behind her canvas.

Brittany, her little artiste, loved to paint. (To the point where she clocked in twice as many hours in the school art studio than the teacher herself did). And Santana admired her friend's passion. Really she did. But at the same time maybe even envied it a little too. She didn't have anything like that in her life, something she lived and breathed for. Hell she didn't even have a hobby. Unless Brittany counted as a hobby, which she's pretty sure she doesn't.

Rising from her chair, Santana walks over to her blonde friend and takes a look at how her latest piece was coming along. Unsurprisingly, it's nothing short of spectacular. Every time Brittany put paint and brush to canvas, a breathtaking work of art always came out of it.

Whereas whenever Santana attempted to paint something, it always turned out looking like a drunk animal fell into some paint, rolled around on the canvas, and then died on it.

"Santana?"

"Hmm?" She turns her attention to look at Brittany.

"Do you ever feel like you're missing something?" Santana can feel her brow draw together at Brittany's sudden, out of the blue question. "Like something you can't remember?"

Santana doesn't quite know how to answer that. "Where'd that come from, B?" she questions, bemused.

Brittany just shakes her head, unknowing, still staring thoughtfully at her portrait. Santana glances back at it too, as if it might help her to gain some insight on where the blonde was coming from.

A late evening sky consisting of various sunset hues filled the canvas, with floating lights as the main feature, their glow dancing across the water depicted below.

Brittany's been drawing those lanterns a lot lately, she's noticed, but Santana doesn't know where they came from. It's not like Brittany has them at home and she's certainly never seen them anywhere around town before.

"I dream about them a lot." Brittany says, unintentionally offering the explanation Santana was looking for. Like she often does. "So I figured that was my brain's way of saying I should get them down on a canvas so I can have them forever. They're so familar, like I've seen them in person before, but I can't remember where." She cocks her head to the side, her lips pursed and brow cutely furrowed, as she tries to figure it out.

It doesn't take long before that line of concentration quickly evaporates, derailed by more pressing matters. Brittany removes her gaze from her painting and settles on Santana. "You never did answer my question." she reminds lightly.

Right. "Uh." Santana squints in thought, needing a second. "Do I feel like I can't remember things? I don't think so." she answers though it comes out sounding more like a question.

She doesn't feel like she's a forgetful person, if that's what Brittany's getting at.

"Lucky." Brittany gets back to painting. "I feel like I'm forgetting stuff all the time. Important stuff too. But it's not like forgetting to do a chore or do homework. Like..." She trails off for a second, trying to find the right words, but is ultimately unable to. "I don't know. Everything's hazy when I try to think back on it. Like I'm on cold medicine."

"I'm missing something." she states with a definitive nod. "I just don't know what."

When she looks over at Santana again, a sheepish grin overtakes her face. "I'm not making any sense, am I?" she chuckles, the Latina's face saying as much.

"Well, yeah." Wait. Santana shakes her head, embarrassed. "I mean no...well, yes _and_ no."

Brittany laughs again. "You're so articulate, S." she teases.

"Whatever." she scoffs, playfully glaring at the blonde. The warning bell rings then, signaling the end of lunch. Her and Brittany share a look and a silent groan.

Brittany shakes her head as she begins cleaning up her work space. "When I run for class president next year, _and win_, I'm going to make it illegal to set a time limit on lunch." she states matter-of-factly.

Santana chuckles and nods. "Okay. I'll be sure to add that to your growing list of presidential demands. Right under root beer water fountains and robot teachers."

"Don't forget topless Tuesdays!"

Her nose scrunches at the reminder. "Uh, how about just having taco Tuesdays instead?" Cause she is so not okay with half naked students walking around like it was Woodstock, burning her corneas one day out of the week.

"Or...how about topless taco Tuesdays?" Brittany suggests, linking their arms as they head out. "_That's_ even better."

Santana laughs in spite of herself. "No, Britt, that's just wanky."

—

Group projects.

Ugh. She hated, loathed, despised, and abominated group projects. Anyone who wasn't Brittany was not someone she wanted to deal with, let alone have to work with.

_But_...because good grades equal graduation, which in turn equates to her getting the fuck of this town for good, Santana keeps her disdain to herself.

Slouched in her chair, Santana sits and waits while the rest of the class divides into teams of three. She picks at her nails, bored and about as uninterested as you can get. Brittany had disappeared on her a few minutes ago to find them a partner.

Santana doesn't bother because she really doesn't care who it is they end up with. She'll hate him/her regardless.

"Got our third member!"

At that proud proclamation, she grudgingly shifts her attention away from her cuticles and lifts her gaze. She can't help the way her eyebrows lift at the sight before her. Because really, Brittany had brought back none other than _Quinn Fabray_ to be round out their little trio.

Santana doesn't know the girl personally, never even spoken to her before, but because their school is small everyone around here at least knows _of_ each other. Which is why she knows the girl's name.

It's definitely not because they're friends or anything.

That being said she doesn't know much about Fabray, aside from speculation. She's the quiet type, but not from shyness, Santana doesn't think. No way. She's more or less one one of those girls that gives off the 'I'm better than you therefore I refuse to associate with anyone' vibe so people automatically steer clear of her.

While Brittany goes about introducing them, Santana removes her boots from their perch on the table. She remembers Brittany once mentioning that she knew Quinn in some way - through family or something - but because Quinn's one of those people who like to keep to themselves, she's never really tried to pursue a relationship.

Though now it looks as though she might have changed her mind about that.

To which Santana responds by throwing her bestie her patented deadpanned 'no me gusta' face.

Fortunately Quinn steers clear of any attempts at socialization with her, choosing instead to take to a chair. Santana can't help but notice that, even when she's doing something as simple as sitting down, there's a regality to Quinn in the way she carried herself.

It isn't the first time that particular thought has crossed her mind.

...That's not to say that she thinks about Quinn regularly or anything. Or watches her in a werid, Swimfan kind of way. Cause she sure as hell doesn't. It's just a person had to be blind to not notice how whenever Quinn walked down the hallways kids parted like the red sea for her.

Like she was a fucking queen or something.

It was a strange sight to behold considering the blonde was by no means the HBIC of the school.

No, that title belonged to _her_.

"Don't think we're gonna pick up your slack for any reason whatsoever." Santana starts suddenly, that last thought evoking a flare of competitiveness from within her.

Regardless of the blonde's uncanny ability to part a crowd without even trying, there was only room enough for one HBIC around here. And she sure as hell wasn't backing down anytime soon.

"You will be doing a third of the work. End of story. And if you end up being the reason we don't get anything higher than an A on this stupid assignment, I _will_ kick your skinny white ass clear across town. _Comprendes?_"

Now this is the part where people usually go wide-eyed, gulp, shrink in fear, cower and nod...etc, all of which Santana is a-okay with. In fact she revels in it.

But Quinn, it seemed, was above all that. She doesn't so much as bat an eyelash at her threat. No instead of doing any of the above, she simply stares and confirms her understanding _in spanish_. (And with surprising fluency no less).

It's a first for Santana...and not at all unnerving.

—

Santana stares at the open notebook before her, seeing the writing but not fully processing it. Once again she finds herself unable to focus. Tired and annoyed, she turns her head away and takes a look around. She's in her abuela's restaurant now, with Brittany and Quinn, the three of them having chosen this place to work on their project. Well, it wasn't Santana's choice per say, although she was the one to bring it up as an option. It was merely a suggestion, she hadn't thought they'd actually agree to it.

Whatever.

Looking across the way, behind the counter, Santana taps her nails in silent deliberation. She wants to go and get herself another soda, figuring the caffeine would help her to concentrate, but she doesn't want to risk her abuela cornering her again and another argument ensuing.

Them fighting was another thing that happened every day without fail. Her abuela liked to badger her every chance she got into taking on more waitressing shifts (as if she didn't work enough overtime as it was) but Santana would never give in. She knew what that _vieja_ was really trying to do. Trying to get her to take on the extra responsibilites so that she could learn to run the restaurant, that way she could take over for her abuela when she ultimately retired.

Like hell that was gonna happen. No way was Santana spending the rest of her life in Storybrooke, stuck running her family's restaurante of all things.

Shaking her head, Santana reverts her attention to the task at hand. Or at least tries to. She ultimately fails, Brittany's incessant chatter doing nothing to help her focus. Sighing, Santana discreetly casts a glance across the table at the _other,_ non-Brittany blonde, sitting in front of her.

Rather than balancing out their chemical equations like she was supposed to, Quinn's attention was settled out of the frosted window, her chin in hand, the assignment completely forgotten.

Santana's gaze lingers, partially captivated by the girl's ridiculously pretty eyes, the ones that were so perfectly illuminated by the light. If she wasn't so concerned with getting caught then embarrassed, she probably would have stared a little longer. Just by looking at her eyes, Santana could see that there was much ruminating about in that blonde's head. Though about what exactly she couldn't even begin to say.

Which really bothered her. She liked to think herself quite perceptive, able to figure people out relatively fast and with little effort, but where Quinn Fabray was concerned she was drawing a big fat blank.

Unlike Brittany who was easier to read than a Dr. Seuss book but twice as much fun.

Her gaze drops back to the notebook in front of her, which is really Quinn's. She's supposed to be reading over the paragraphs the blonde wrote, to ensure it wasn't a rambling mess of crap that could potentially affect their grade, but the only thing that manages to catch her eye are the little drawings done in the margins.

"So I take it you're enjoying this weather."

Her voice startles Quinn out of her daze. As the blonde's gaze slides away from the window, her brow draws together, mildly curious. "What makes you think that?"

Wordlessly, she shows Quinn her notebook and the sketches made within its pages. She'd first noticed the blonde's drawings in class earlier when Quinn was sitting with them. Every so often she'd glance her way and find her idly doodling away. Drawing the same thing.

Snowflakes.

Granted they varied in size and shape and intricacy, but still all snowflakes.

Quinn shrugs, thinking nothing of the drawings but indications of her own boredom. "They're pretty."

"They say no two snowflakes are alike." Brittany chimes in from beside Santana. "I think that's pretty cool. They're just like people."

Disdain washes over her the longer she stares at Quinn's artsty fartsy doodles that are just _so_ good it makes her stomach churn. In reality it has nothing to do with her being jealous of her talent or anything - she could care less about that - she just doesn't want to like the blonde and therefore is more than willing to jump on the 'hate train' at every given chance.

"Well I hate winter and everything that comes along with it." Without missing a beat, she flings the notebook across the table to its owner.

"Yeah." Quinn doesn't seem afflicted by Santana's carelessness, but her eyes are rather sad as she quietly agrees, "Sometimes I do too."

For a split second, Santana feels her heart ache.

She chooses to blame it on the artery clogging burrito she'd just indulged in and not on...whatever that had really been.

—

"Is it okay if I invite Quinn to eat lunch with us from now on?" Brittany asks abruptly as they're walking along the mainstreet of town one day.

Santana does a double take, unintentionally pulling a face in the process. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Isn't it enough that we work on this project after school?" she questions, her good mood slowly disinegrating at the prospect of having Quinn around even more. "Do we really need to hang out with her any more than that?"

Brittany turns to her and frowns. "Why don't you like her?"

"She's...I dunno...weird." she finishes lamely. Truthfully there isn't any particular reason _why_ she doesn't like the girl. She just doesn't.

Brittany stares at her pointedly, cause they both know that was a beyond crappy excuse, but doesn't harp on it. Instead she returns to answering Santana's inital question of _why?_ "It'll be good for Quinn. She's always by herself."

Santana rolls her eyes. Like she cared about _her_ well being. "Yeah and you ever think that _maybe_ there's a reason for it?" Walking out onto the street, they look both ways before crossing to the other side. "For all we know she could be a serial killer. It's always the quiet ones you have to watch out for."

Brittany gives her a sidelong glance. "Santana, she is _not_ a serial killer."

"That is subject for debate." She turns and regards the blonde with a confused frown. "What's with your sudden interest with hanging out with her anyways?"

"I know she likes to keep to herself but it's obvious that she's lonely." Brittany responds, briefly raising her shoulders. She looks back at Santana. "Don't you think?"

"I don't know." Lonesomeness wasn't exactly the vibe she got from the blonde, but there did seem to be a muted sadness to her.

"And what if she doesn't want to hang around with us anymore than she has to?" she counters, walking ahead to get the door. "You can't force it if she doesn't want to, you know."

"I know that." Brittany nods, okay with the possibility. But she's confident things will work out in her favor.

Santana can tell 'cause she's got that _look_, that oh-so-subtle smirk playing across her lips. "But it wouldn't be the first time I've gotten a lone wolf to join my flock."

—

That night Santana has herself some weird ass dreams.

Her mind is normally not the type to venture into dreamland, usually too exhausted from work and school to even bother, but this time was different. This time she dreamt, of a forest not unlike the one that bordered the town.

When she thinks back on it - yeah, this dream stayed with her long after she woke up (which she's pretty sure isn't supposed to happen) - the word _enchanting_ floats around in her head, like it's _the_ word to use to describe the place. Which makes no sense whatsoever.

She's never used the word 'enchanting' in her life. It's not a word that belongs in her day to day vocabulary and it sure as hell isn't one she'd use to describe anything, let alone a stupid forest of all things.

The dream itself didn't make much sense either. Full moons, angry mobs, red cloaks...

Being that it wasn't a particularly pleasant situation, she woke up drenched in her own sweat. It was disconcerting as fuck, but at the same time, familiar in a way. Like she'd experienced this dream before. Maybe she had. _Maybe_ it was an actual memory from one of her crazier weekend excursions...

Nah. Even at her drunkest she'd remember being _chased_ around the fucking woods like a fucking animal.

Santana shakes her head as she walks into her next class.

Her subconscious comes up with the weirdest shit.

—

Santana had _hoped_ Quinn wouldn't join them for lunch, as per Brittany's request, but alas today just wasn't her fucking day. She should have known better than to take the blonde's initial reluctance as a good sign. No sane human being has ever snubbed an invitation from Brittany, the sweetest, most irresistible girl on the planet.

It's like physically impossible.

While Brittany's in the restroom, trying to wash the paint off her hands, Santana's stuck with Quinn. The blonde doesn't say much, not that she ever does, which leaves Santana to occupy herself with her lunch. Not that she minds, she'd rather that than strike up conversation with Quinn (she'll play nice in front of Britts but she's not gonna go out of her way when she's not around).

As she tears into her sandwich, Santana silently wills herself not to roll her eyes at the blonde's annoyingly perfect posture. It's then that she realizes the blonde was _clearly_ staring at her, watching her.

"Can I help you with something?" she snaps, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "You always stare at people who are trying to eat?"

No wonder this girl has no friends.

Quinn shakes her head. "I wasn't staring at you." she says matter-factly, indifferent as ever to Santana's hostility. Much to the Latina's chagrin. "I was merely admiring your ring."

Quinn motions to her hand with the silver wolf's head ring on it. Santana had swiped it from the local pawn shop ages ago because she'd thought it was cool. She'd always had a thing for wolves. They were badass, like her.

"It seems fitting." Quinn quietly presses on. "Wolves represent endurance, perseverance, self-reliance, protection...loyalty."

Santana can't help but snort at that last one. "I thought dogs were the loyal ones." she mutters, crunching around the cool ranch dorito in her mouth.

"Canines in general I think."

"Right."

Silence drifts into the air. Quinn doesn't follow up with anything more and since Santana has no real inclination to keep the conversation going, she more than happily continues scarfing down her doritos.

But as she breaks down each chip, she can't help but wonder why Quinn would say that her wolf ring seemed 'fitting'. Blondie didn't know jack about her...

As that train of thought trails off to nowhere land, Santana's gaze wanders. Her face quickly screws up in confusion. "Why are you wearing those?"

Quinn snaps to attention at the sound of her voice. It takes her a second to register what she was going on about.

Her gloves.

"I don't know." the blonde says softly, staring curiously at her own hands. Like she hadn't realized until Santana pointed it out that she was still wearing them.

"I suppose with this weather I'm so used to keeping them on that I sometimes forget take them off."

Santana stares at her oddly, watching as she removes her gloves finger by finger. Quinn notices. "You think I'm weird."

"Yeah considering you're _inside_."

How can someone simply _forget_ that they have gloves on? They're on your hands for Christ's sake.

Santana just shakes her head. Whatever.

She casts a glance over at the doorway, hopeful that her best friend would come save her from this silent pause. But as the seconds pass and the blonde still nowhere in sight, Santana resigns to the fact that she's gonna be stuck alone with Quinn longer than anticipated.

"You know for a while I thought you were deaf."

She has to fill the void somehow. She's so used to being around Brittany, the never ending chatterbox (and she says that with love) that long periods of silence make her antsy. And since Quinn's the only one here... "Or just a mute. Since you never talk."

Quinn's brow furrows slightly at that seemingly random statement. "Like any normal person I speak when spoken to." she responds coolly. "I'd look like I was out of my mind if I started talking when no one was around to initiate conversation." She raises her brow, challenging Santana to declare something to the contrary.

She doesn't, because how can she when blondie's response was so fucking rational?, so they both return to their respective lunches, and resume their waiting for Brittany.

Barely a few seconds pass before Quinn, surprisingly, speaks up. "You know for a while I thought you were a streetwalker."

It's takes a second before that comment fully registers. "Excuse me?" Did Blondie just fucking say what she thinks she said?

"In my defense you do dress an awful lot like a hooker." Quinn's eyes fit over her rather inappropriate for winter outfit to emphasize her point.

Santana glances down at her ensemble: a form fitting red dress, a cropped black jacket, and matching boots. Sure it emphasized all her Latina loveliness and her hemline was a little on the short side, but she so did not resemble a fucking prostitute, thank you very much.

"You been talking to my abuela?"

It's the only reasonable explanation. The only one who ever badmouthed her style was her grams. She absolutely hated how she dressed, especially how the color red dominated her wardrobe.

But seriously, what the hell did she expect from someone whose middle name was _Diabla?_

Anyways. Santana stares back at the blonde in front of her, mildly impressed. "There's more bitch to you than you let on, Fabray."

A small teasing smirk plays across Quinn's lips.

It's the closest thing to a smile she's seen yet.

—

That night those _same_ weird ass dreams from the other night start back up again. Like a movie taken off pause, her subconscious was apparently eager to return to this 'enchanted forest' she'd dreamed up, even though all the scenarios so far weren't all that enjoyable.

So when she wakes up two hours before her alarm, all sweaty and shaken _again_, she swears she's going to invest in a bottle of sleeping pills.

—

The days that follow pretty much play out the same way, with Quinn joining them at lunch and after school to work on their project. Contrary to what she initially thought, it wasn't all that bad - having Quinn around.

Granted the blonde was still pretty reserved, (but that's just her, Santana figures) but with each passing day they were able to get her to talk a little more without her needing to be addressed first. It was progress, and Santana was just fine with how things were going, but she could tell it was not progress enough for Brittany.

_She'll come around on her own_, is what Santana finds herself having to repeatedly tell the blonde every time Quinn shies away from Brittany repeated attempts to turn them into absolute besties.

"I've decided something."

"What's that, B?" she asks distractedly. She's touching up her eyeliner here in the girl's bathroom, where her and Brittany have been taking their sweet time doing their business, neither one of them in a rush to get back to class. Who gave a flying rat's ass about the French Revolution anyways?

"I've decided what my next pet is going to be."

Brittany waits for her to tear her eyes away from her reflection before divulging her answer. "A chameleon." she enthuses, her eyes big and bright.

"A...chameleon? Like a lizard?"

Brittany nods, Santana's confusion doing nothing to dampen her excitement. "They're so cool. They can change colors to blend into their surroundings and everything."

"Uh...I don't know how well that's gonna go over with your folks, Britt." she begins delicately. "Or your cat. Lord Tubbington would probably try and eat it."

Brittany scoffs her disagreement. "He would not. They'd be best buds."

"That's what _you_ think." she says smilingly, turning back to her reflection. "But seriously. Why a chameleon, B? Why not another cat? Or a dog?"

Though Tubs would probably like that choice even less than a chameleon.

Brittany shrugs, swinging her legs out in front of her. She's perched on the sink next to Santana. "I think they're really cute. Can't you just imagine it chilling on my shoulder like all the time?" She gestures to her shoulder happily. "I could take him with me everywhere I go. I could bring him to school and he could help me out during tests by giving me the answers."

Santana laughs. "Oh so it's a talking chameleon you want?"

"All animals talk Santana, chameleons are no different." she states matter-of-factly.

Santana caps her eyeliner, nodding. "Right."

"It'd be perfect." Brittany continues. "Cause chameleons are coldblooded so it'd be okay with being in this weather. Of course I'd still want to knit it a little scarf and hat so it doesn't catch a cold..." She cocks her head to the side as something else occurs to her. "You know I think Quinn is coldblooded too."

Santana looks at her, bemused. "Yeah? What makes you think so?"

"In class today I accidentally brushed against her hand and it was like ice." Brittany explains. "It was weird because we were inside and the heat was on, yet her hand felt like she'd just shoved it in a pile of snow."

"So she's cold." Santana shrugs and zips up her makeup bag. "Matches her personality perfectly."

She says it as a joke, but Brittany doesn't take it as one and swats her arm for it. "Ow." She smiles through a wince. "Britt I was just kidding."

"That's not a nice thing to say, Santana." she admonishes.

Her smile fades apologetically, realizing the blonde was being serious. "Sorry, B." she says again.

Sighing, Brittany's gaze drops to her hands in her lap. "I wish she wasn't so sad all the time." she murmurs in a small forlorn voice, idly fiddling with the leg warmers she wears on her arms. "It makes me sad."

"I don't think she's sad, B." She tries to comfort, trying to ignore the pang in her heart at the sight of her bestie so suddenly down. "She's just likes to keep to herself. Some people are naturally like that. Just like some people are naturally bright and bubbly and happy like you."

"It's just..." Brittany blows out a breath and leans back against the wall. "I don't know. It's like there's something haunting her and she has like this heaviness weighing her down. I just want to get rid of whatever it is that's bothering her and make her smile."

"You do make her smile, Brittany." she insists.

Brittany shakes her head. "I mean like _really_ smile. The ones she gives us never quite reach her eyes. They're forced."

Santana purses her lips before answering. "That may be but you've got to admit that she's beginning to come around. Compared to that first day with us."

"There are moments...I guess." she shrugs. "When the real Quinn pokes through."

Santana stares, bemused. "Real Quinn?"

Brittany nods. "Everytime I look at her, I don't know, somewhere deep down in my brain or my gut, or where ever it is, something is telling me that this isn't the girl I know. Like this isn't how Quinn Fabray is supposed to be."

Brittany continues before Santana can respond. "Which I know is crazy cause I know I don't really know her. But at the same time I feel like I do, I just can't remember." Brittany shakes her head, her lips drawing a pout. "See? This is what I was talking about the other day. Forgetting important stuff and feeling like I'm missing something. You know sometimes I even forget my middle name." She turns to Santana, suddenly fearful. "San, you don't think I have old timer's do you?"

"It's Alzheimer's, B." she gently corrects, smiling. "And no I don't think you have it. You're way too young and awesome."

That seems to appease Brittany enough. A small blush creeps onto her face at the compliment. "Thanks." She hops off the sink as Santana gathers her things. Once she's back on her feet, Santana drapes an arm across her shoulders. "You're awesome too, San." she beams.

Santana scoffs. "Psh. B, you know I'm _way_ awesomer." she says, her smile smug.

"Awesomer isn't a word." Brittany teases. "The correct term is _more awesome_."

To which Santana grins. "And she's smart too."

Brittany links their arms together and nods. "Damn straight." she smirks.

—

Santana hates how she can see her breath right in front of her face every time she exhales. It's super annoying. Plus she looks like a damn bull out here. All she needed was the ridiculous nose ring and she was set.

Frustrated, she tightens her grip on her cup of her abuela's famous _chocolate caliente_, silently wishing she was somewhere, anywhere but here.

"C'mon, Santana!" Brittany beckons for the millionth time, calling out to her from the frozen over pond she was happily skating on.

Santana just shakes her head in response.

Snow. Ice. Whatever form it was in, she wanted no part of. And no way in hell was she gonna put those death traps people called 'skates' on her feet and go cavorting on frozen water that, for all they knew, wasn't all that frozen.

_Fuck that_. She'll stay right where she is, thank you very much.

Brittany skates past her and says to her in warning, "I will give you five minutes to come to your senses before I drag you out here myself, Santana!"

Santana rolls her eyes and takes another sip of her scalding hot cocoa. As the burning liquid rushes down her throat and sends another burst of warmth to her insides, her gaze settles on the _other_ blonde out on the ice.

It'd taken a little persuasion (_okay, a lot_) but Brittany eventually succeeded in getting Quinn to join her. It was a feat Brittany was so proud and excited by that, in her haste to get to the ice, she'd nearly yanked poor Quinn's arm out her socket.

Santana ducks her head, chuckling to herself at the memory. But when the breeze picks up, her smile fades and a scowl promptly replaces it as she's forced to scoot her thighs closer together in attempt to retain as much warmth as she can.

God damn this fucking weather.

Staring out ahead, Santana's left with no other option but to continue to watch the two blondes skate around. They're the only ones out here and while she could choose to occupy herself with a round of Angry Birds, there's no way in hell she's taking her hands off her only heat source to reach into her jacket pocket and get her phone. No way.

So she sits and stares, silently hoping one of them (Quinn) falls on her ass so she can get her chuckles on. But that doesn't look like there's any chance of that happening. Quinn was like... in her element. She seemed very much at peace out there on the ice. Lost in her own little world, her eyes closed in contentment as she glided around with as much elegance as a seasoned professional.

And the way she executed graceful little spins here and there, adding little flicks of her wrists to her moves like she was weaving some kind of invisible magic along the way, made things all the more impressive. She didn't even look like she was conscious of what she was doing, just going along with whatever her body felt was natural.

Santana would never admit it out loud, but the girl was kind of captivating to watch.

"You look miserable."

Startled, her body involuntarily tenses, not expecting the girl she'd been admiring to be suddenly standing right in front of her. She could have sworn Quinn was just over there on the other side of the pond...

"I'm outside in below freezing temperatures, of course I look miserable." she snaps, annoyed that Quinn had actually managed to catch her off guard.

"You'd be a lot less colder if you were doing something other than just sitting there like a bump on a log."

"I'm fine."

Quinn sighs, evidently able to see right through that lie. "Come on." Santana just stares when the girl extends a gloved hand to her. "Join us."

Hadn't seen that coming, she can honestly say. Quinn doesn't do this kind of stuff. Brittany does.

Huh. Maybe she was rubbing off on her fellow blonde.

Santana isn't quite sure how she feels about that.

"C'mon, Santana." Brittany skates over to them and stops next to Quinn. "We can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way."

Santana quirks her brow. "Excuse me?"

Brittany chuckles, that mischievous grin of hers - the one that always spells trouble for Santana - firmly in place. "You heard me."

Next thing she knows has those blades of death strapped securely to her feet and two blondes, one on either side of her, carefully guiding her to the edge of the ice against her will.

Fucking blondes, man.

—

"If I die, I am so gonna haunt you two in the afterlife. Mark my words."

She feels like the biggest idiot in the world out here.

Like a toddler, Santana was locked in a squatted position, her hands held out, body bracing itself for the inevitable fall. And while Quinn was gently coaxing her forward, skating backwards to serve as the buffer should she lose her balance, Brittany was skating circles around her. Literally.

"You are not going to die, Santana." Quinn sighs.

Part of her mind is still reeling that Quinn was actually partaking in this cruel, unusual punishment. Cause sure she hung out with them, but usually kept herself at a distance. Helping Santana to properly ice skate just didn't seem like something she'd ever do.

"Quit being such a baby, San." Brittany teases, coming up behind her and touching her back. "You're so dramatic."

A very un-Santana like shriek escapes her then, much to her mortification. Thankfully Quinn's still holding her hands and leading her forward while Brittany begins pushing her from behind.

This whole thing is like a scene right out of Bambi. You know the one where Thumper's trying to teach him how to slide on the ice? Only in this case she has two blonde bunnies pushing her around and this scenario isn't so much cute as it is utterly pathetic.

"Okay. Okay." She's had just about enough of this. "Don't you guys think we should quit while we're ahead?"

She hasn't fallen yet, but the longer she stays out on this ice, the more she feels like she's pushing her luck.

So when she receives nothing but stifled laughter in response, she groans pitifully. "_C'mon_. Don't make me beg." Much as she hates it, there's no getting out of this without their help.

Fortunately for her, Quinn is much more merciful than Brittany's being at the moment. With sympathetic eyes, Quinn carefully guides them to the edge of the ice.

"You're never gonna learn if you never try this on your own, San." Brittany reminds, a little disappointed they were bringing it in already. But she isn't too upset - how can she be when she actually got Quinn to help her tag team Santana?

"Who needs to know how to ice skate anyways? I've done just fine all these years without it and sure as hell don't..."

Her words trail off as the expected occurs. Well, it's actually partly unexpected considering it's Brittany's skate that catches on the ice and not hers. Either way, like Santana predicted, things take a turn for the worst before her feet are able to find solid ground.

A domino effect ensues as Brittany stumbles into the unstable Santana, the sudden impact of which sends the Latina lurching forward into the arms of the unuspecting Quinn. With a collective shriek and subsequent groan, the three of them crash land into a disorganized heap, their bodies piled up on top of each other.

"Fucking ice." Santana growls, sandwiched against her will in between the two conspiratorial blondes. "No me gusta."

When Brittany rolls off her with a slight 'oomph', Santana promptly pushes away from Quinn so that she lands in between the two of them. All three of them are lying on their backs now.

That's when the laughter kicks in.

Brittany starts giggling first, because falling on your ass is apparently _so damn funny_, and Quinn follows suit shortly thereafter.

Though she doesn't find the situation all that ha-ha funny, the infectious laughter she finds herself surrounded by is impossible not to smile at. Her shoulders begin to shake with mild amusement, but it isn't until an uncharacteristic snort escapes the ever composed blonde on her left that Santana loses all restraint.

Uninhibited laughter rips through her, the kind that makes her ribs ache and her eyes flood with tears.

She's pretty sure it's the hardest she's ever laughed. And the first time she's seen Quinn really, truly, smile.

—

"I'm freezing my nuts off out here."

Her jaw clenched, Santana shoves her gloved hands deeper in her jacket pockets. She does her best to repress her body's natural inclination to shiver.

"I didn't realize you had nuts to freeze off, Santana."

She's barely able to resist rolling her eyes. "It's a figure of speech, bitch."

She redirects her glare at blonde standing next to her. The one who didn't seem to be affected in the slightest by this weather, despite the fact that she was wearing a relatively thin jacket.

"How the fuck are you not freezing too?" she sneers, disgruntled by the fact.

Quinn stares out into the distance and shrugs. "The cold has never bothered me."

_Of course it doesn't._

Santana stamps her feet together, cold, cranky, and restless. She really wished Brittany would hurry up.

After they finished working on their project for the day, Brittany had dragged her and Quinn to the park to 'play' in the snow. But like hell _that_ was gonna happen. Santana doesn't 'play' in snow. Which is why she'd paid off those snotnosed ginger-headed demon spawns of Satan Giardi triplets to keep her entertained. (Honestly, it didn't take much persuasion since they loved Brittany, but those little shits are con artists who are always looking to make a buck).

Santana glances around the park. Where the fuck are those kids' mom to drag them home? Isn't it like nap time or some thing?

After grinding her teeth, Santana resigns to the fact that she's gonna have to play the role of the killjoy parent and ruin Brittany's fun if she's going to get out of this fucking cold anytime soon.

"You know if you would just dress in appropriate winter attire, you wouldn't be so cold all the time."

Santana just narrows her eyes at Quinn.

Just because winter was being a real bitch didn't mean she was suddenly gonna cave in and be its little bitchlet like everyone else and suddenly start wearing parkas and shit.

Santana Lopez had too much pride for that god damnit. Besides, _she's fine_. The weather's not that bad.

Quinn merely gives her that knowing sidelong look. Santana looks away. The subject is dropped after that.

As Santana stares out ahead, she huffs with the realization that she doesn't have the heart to pull Brittany away from her fun. Especially when she looks so damn adorable rolling around in the snow with those 'cute when they wanted to be' copper-headed hoodlums.

God damn. She really is pathetic when it comes to that girl.

Silently shaking her head, Santana's gaze wanders back to Quinn. (Because really she's got nothing else to look at). The blonde's eyes are blank and sad all at the same time. It's a look Santana's become accustomed to seeing whenever Quinn was left with her own thoughts.

She'll admit the sight has held her curiosity before but never enough for her to look into it. However, now the sight really bothers her for some reason and before she knows what she's doing, her cranky self is asking, "Okay what's you deal?"

It's something she's actually been wondering about for a while now. It's almost been a week since Quinn started hanging out with her and Britts and while they talk to each other, they don't _really_ talk. Not about personal matters anyways.

She knows basically everything there is to know about Brittany but relatively nothing about Quinn and that doesn't sit well with her. She doesn't like not knowing about people. Not knowing whether or not they can be trusted. And Quinn seems like one of those girls you have to watch out for. The kind that can just as easily be your friend or your enemy, or both, at any given time.

"My deal?"

"Yeah. This quiet thing you've got going on, it seems wrong on you." She much preferred the Quinn that wasn't so uptight - the relaxed, almost carefree, one that'd made a surprise appearance after they'd gone ice-skating and fallen on their asses. "Like it's not really you."

She hadn't realized until she said those words out loud at now how true they felt. Now she's starting to get a better understanding of what Brittany had meant the other day.

Quinn's back straightens, her defenses obviously now up. "No offense Santana but you don't know me."

"True, but I'm clever enough to know when something isn't right." She steps in front of the blonde in attempt to force eye contact. "So if this is some kind of an act you're pulling to try in attempt to dethrone me as HBIC-"

Quinn interjects before she can finish. "You're the one brought me into this equation. I didn't ask to be in it." she scoffs, because really the very idea of this being about _popularity_ is ludicrous.

And deep down somewhere Santana knows that but she wouldn't be a Lopez if she wasn't always watching out for herself. Because of this she's naturally suspicious of all people and doesn't trust easily. Or at all. Brittany's been the one exception. And while there were moments this past week where she thought Quinn might be too, Santana can't ignore her gut instincts urging her to be careful around this girl.

"And for the record Brittany asked you to join our group, not me." She's quick to correct.

And then with no other aim than to provoke, adds, "She always did love a good charity case."

To her dismay Quinn doesn't lash out as she'd hoped. It would've been nice to see the girl display some kind of human emotion. She's so fucking closed off; sometimes Santana wonders if she slapped the bitch would she even react?

"Is that what this is all about?" Quinn questions, not sounding hurt or angered by it. "She feels sorry for me so that's why she wants me around?"

Santana shrugs. "How the hell am I supposed to know?"

Quinn stares at her, disbelieving. "She's _your_ best friend."

She sighs, exasperated. "Look all I know is that she thinks your lonely and sad and shit and just wants to make you happy."

Suddenly she wants out of this conversation. That whole thing about wanting to learn more about Quinn? Yeah she's over that now.

"Being alone and loneliness are two completely different things."

Santana doesn't say anything. She knows that to be very true.

"I'm just not comfortable being around other people, therefore I prefer to keep to myself."

They have that in common. People annoy the fuck out of her. They're just so goddamn stupid.

"So why keep hanging out with me and Brittany?" she asks.

Quinn glances back at her, brow raised. "Do I really need to answer that? You of all people should know that refusing any request that comes out of Brittany's mouth is damn near impossible to do. And as hard as it might be for you to believe, I've actually grown to enjoy your company. My presence here has nothing to do with your paranoid beliefs that I'm out to get you in some way. If I cared about being popular or being the HBIC I would have done something about ages ago."

Now that she believes.

"And the same goes for friends." Quinn continues. "If I had truly wanted them, I would have gone out and made some of my own volition." She pauses for a long moment. "Though I will admit that Brittany bringing us together has turned out to be, I don't know, a blessing in disguise."

Santana interrupts with another derisive snort as she looks away. "I don't know about blessing."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Look if you don't want me around just say so and I won't burden you with my presence any longer."

Santana looks back at her and sighs. "I don't-"

"Our project is over anyways." She turns her head dismissively. "So there's no reason for us to continue this."

Santana shakes her head at her. "You really want that?" she questions disbelievingly. "To go back to being a total loner?"

Quinn brushes her, and the question, off. "It doesn't matter." She looks everywhere but at Santana, refusing to make eye contact. "It's for the best anyways."

A deep set frown pulls across her face. "What's that supposed to mean? Best for who?"

Quinn's already set to walk away, but Santana grabs onto her arm at the last second. "Slow your roll, blondie."

Quinn pulls out of her grasp. "Forget it, Santana."

Santana shakes her head and moves around in front of the blonde, preventing her from going anywhere. "If we're gonna be legit besties one day, you're gonna have to learn to open up, Fabray. Friends talk to each other."

Quinn stares at her, brow raised. "Oh so you want to be friends now? Santana, I get you're doing this for Brittany's sake but I don't need this so just stop. You clearly don't want me around, you don't trust me, and that's just fine with me. I really don't care what you think of me."

The blonde tries to walk away again and once more Santana prevents her from doing so.

"Newsflash whether you like it or not you're obligated to continue hanging out with us from now on. Project or no project." At Quinn's quirked brow, she nods. "Yeah. Brittany's found a new bestie in you and there's no way in hell she's gonna just let you go back to being a sad, hot loner." She's going to ignore the fact that she just admitted to thinking Quinn is hot.

"And fyi I actually do like hanging out with you. Sure I'd probably like you more if you let us get to know you better, but whatever. From what you've let us see of you you're actually an alright bitch. But you're right, I don't trust you. But you know what? I don't trust anybody. Except Britts and my abuela. That doesn't mean I don't want you around. If I _really_ didn't want you around, regardless of what Brittany wanted, I would have removed you from the equation like that." Santana snaps her fingers to emphasize her point. "I'm ruthless like that."

Quinn just shakes her head. Santana sighs. "Look I don't want us to stop being," she gestures between them, "Whatever this is anymore than you do. There I admit it. You happy? Can we move past this now? I'm tired of talking about this."

All she gets is silence. Then, something in the air shifts along with the entirety of Quinn's persona. "I feel like I've hurt people before." she admits quietly, catching Santana off guard. "For as long as I can remember, I've always carried around this feeling like I have to be careful around others."

Her insides turn uneasily at the pain she sees reflected in Quinn's eyes.

How is it that she has the same effect on her that Brittany does? It has to be a blonde thing. Just has to.

"That's why I prefer to keep my distance. You can't hurt any one if you're alone."

Santana hesitates, processing this new revelation, eventually asking, "When you say hurt, do you mean emotionally or like...physically?"

Quinn doesn't get the chance to elaborate. The Giardi boys had evidently left for home and Brittany grew tired of playing by herself so she calls out to them in that moment. Or she calls out to _Quinn_, she should say.

"Hey Quinn do you wanna build a snowman?"

An innocent question that evoked the strangest of expressions on Quinn's face. Like something resonated within her in that moment.

Santana doesn't know what to make of it. She frowns unsurely. "Hey you okay?" she asks, legitimately concerned.

Quinn breaks from her daze and nods faintly. "Yeah, fine." She shakes her head, dropping her gaze, closing her eyes briefly. "I just...I don't know." She lifts her gaze and pushes down whatever she'd felt, whatever had caused that reaction.

In an instant, it's as if nothing had happened. Quinn was back to her composed self. "I'll be right there!" she calls to Brittany who'd still been waiting on a response.

Santana can't help but let her gaze linger quizzically on the blonde. What the hell was that? What just happened?

The only reason she doesn't ask is because quite frankly, she doesn't think Quinn even knows.

—

"That one looks like a breadstick."

Santana extends her arm to the sky and traces the outline with her hand.

Brittany just laughs. "Santana."

"What? It does." She drops her hand and cocks her head to the side. "Or a giant dong." she later adds.

They'd finished their snowman awhile ago and now the three of them were laying side by side (by side) on a heap of snow, staring up at the dark winter sky, trying to point out as many constellations as they could.

Brittany was a master at it, knowing all of them by heart. She loved astronomy, loved the stars and the planets and everything there was to know about them. So, of course, Santana's spent many a night stargazing with her best friend. Though she could never see the constellations Brittany pointed out to her. All she saw was stars. Lots and lots of stars. Occasionally she'd see them form shapes, like now, but usually she'd just take Britt's word for it when she'd point something out to her.

Quinn knew almost as many constellations as Brittany did, but wasn't able to spot them as easily in the sky as Brittany was, who'd been tracking stars her entire life.

"It's so beautiful, isn't it?" Brittany sighs dreamily, staring up at the stars in awe. "Couldn't you just lay here all night and watch the sky?"

"If we did Santana would freeze her nuts off for sure." Quinn teases from the other side of Brittany.

"Shove it, Fabray." Santana glares, though on the inside she's pleasantly relieved Quinn was comfortable enough to start teasing her again.

"We should probably get going." Quinn sighs, sitting upright. She looks around; they're the only ones out here. "It is getting pretty late."

Not really but the days are shorter in winter.

"Yeah, I guess so." Brittany grudgingly does the same.

"Thank God." Santana eagerly gets to feet. "I was a minute away from straight up blacking out." She's only half-joking. They've been out here for so long that she was past being cold and was just numb now.

While Quinn and Brittany start down the hill, Santana hurries across the snow and hijacks her favorite red scarf from their adorably deformed snowman.

"Later Olaf."

—

The three of them walk together until they reach the corner of Birch street (or _Bitch_ street, as Santana often refers to it). Quinn's house is going left, Brittany's house is going right. Santana's place is also going right, but when they get ready to part ways, Brittany stops her and jabs her with her elbow.

Santana hisses under her breath, touching her ribcage. "What was that for?"

Brittany stares at her with wide eyes and subtly jerks her head to the side. "Walk her home." she whispers.

"What? Hell no." She's not gonna go out of her way just to walk _Quinn_ home.

Brittany's gaze is unyielding. "Santana."

"Brittany." she returns in the same tone.

"You'd walk me home." Brittany points out, brow raised.

Santana scoffs. "Yeah, because we live in the _same_ direction."

Brittany shoots her a knowing look. They both know that while they live in the same general direction, her house is out of Santana's way, kind of, and that doesn't stop her from walking Brittany home.

But still...

"Santana," Brittany whines, glancing back and seeing Quinn standing a few feet away, looking like she was going to leave. "Be a good friend."

"No. _You_ walk her home."

Brittany sighs. "I would but I can't. I'm already going to be in enough trouble as it is for coming home so late without calling first." She takes another look at her Mickey Mouse watch and shakes her head.

"And like I'm not?"

"Just do it, Santana." Brittany huffs. "She could get mugged or kidnapped if she doesn't have a buddy with her."

"So could you," she argues, "So you shouldn't be walking home alone either."

Brittany rolls her eyes, unconvinced. "I'm perfectly capable of defending myself."

Santana snorts. "Not without a frying pan you're not."

Brittany playfully glares at her for that comment. "Whatever. Anyways this is Storybrooke, like the safest town on earth. Nothing ever happens here."

"Exactly. Which is why she doesn't need someone to walk her home. She's a big girl."

Brittany stares at her pleadingly, eyes all big and sad, her lips drawn together in a pout. "Santana."

She throws her head back in a silent groan. Brittany knows she can't say no to that face. "Ugh. Fine. I'll walk her home. Jesus." She shakes her head, then points at the blonde, "You so owe me for this."

Brittany rolls her eyes again. "Don't act like it's such a chore, Santana." She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively and smirks. "You know you like her."

Santana crinkles her nose. "I do not."

Brittany shakes her head, smilingly. "Don't act like you don't have a thing for blondes, Santana." Brittany pinches her nose as she skips past her. "Cause we both know that you do!"

"Do not!" Santana calls after her. As Brittany bounds into the unsuspecting Quinn's arms for a goodbye hug, Santana just shakes her head.

It's so not adorable, is what she tells herself.

"Bye Quinn!" Her best friend further surprises their new friend, by kissing Quinn on the cheek before dashing off. Brittany never was one to shy away from showing affection, especially to those she liked.

When it's just the two of them, Quinn looks at her expectantly. Her cheeks are still a little flushed from Brittany's little display. "You're going my way?"

Santana shoves her hands in her pockets and sighs, nodding. "Looks that way."

—

"How long have you lived in Storybrooke?"

The question is abrupt, out of the blue. Her and Quinn have been walking in relative silence, and Santana had been enjoying it, up until blondie decided to change things.

Santana shrugs. "I don't know. For as long as I can remember." She turns and stares at her questionably. Quinn doesn't look too satisfied with her response. "Why?"

"Just wondering."

Silence.

_Okay_. Santana keeps walking, unsure of whether or not to let the subject drop, but Quinn speaks up again before she can think too much on it.

"_For as long as I can remember_." she echoes. "That's the common phrase people use when you ask them about their lives in Storybrooke. 'How long have you worked here?' For as long as I can remember. 'How long have you lived here?' For as long as I can remember. And yet no one really seems able to." Quinn turns and looks at her. "Have you ever noticed that?"

Santana can't say that she has, at least not before now. She tells her as much.

Sighing, Quinn lifts her gaze, her eyes watching the clouds slowly roll in, a sign of more snowfall to come. "There are a lot of things about my past I can't remember." she confesses quietly.

"Well...were you ever injured, like in a car accident or something? That could've affected your memory."

"No." Quinn huffs, frustrated, her breath showing in the air. "I wish. Then at least I'd have an explanation for this...haze."

She's starting to sound like Brittany.

"I don't remember my parents." Santana offers, the words spilling out before her brain could properly filter out a less telling response. "My abuela says my mom died when I was little and that my dad took off shortly after, but I have no memory of that whatsoever. Grams says it's just because I was really young when it happened, but I don't know...for as long as I can remember it's always just been me and my grams."

She doesn't know why she's telling her this. She's only open with Brittany.

And shit, blondie's right. There's that saying again. _For as long as I can remember._

"My parents aren't in the picture either. They died in a boating accident. Got caught up in a storm and capsized."

Santana grimaces. "Sorry." Another pause. She feels the inclination to at least try and lift the mood. "So do you live with your grams too?" She snorts at the very idea.

"No." Quinn shakes her head. "I don't live with anyone."

Santana raises her brow. "You live by yourself?"

Quinn just nods.

That was cool, there were days where Santana would give anything to get away from her grams and live on her own, but at the same time a little sad. She needed her alone time for sure but she couldn't imagine it being a permanent thing.

"I had a sister. But I..." Quinn trails off, unsure of how to finish that thought.

"What happened to her?" she gently probes.

Quinn shakes her head, at a loss. "I don't know...an accident. I can't remember the details." She releases a bitter scoff as she turns back to Santana. "Can you believe it? I don't even know how I lost my own sister."

"Maybe it's a repressed memory." she shrugs. "Like your subconscious is blocking it out or something." That's what she'd come to terms with regarding her own vague memories of her parents.

Quinn turns away again. It doesn't go unnoticed by Santana that her eyes were now glassy, burning with unshed emotion. "Must have been pretty traumatic then. Otherwise I'd be able to remember it, wouldn't I?"

Santana kicks a rock out of her path. "Yeah, maybe."

Quinn sniffles, trying to compose herself as quickly as she can. "You must think I'm very strange."

Santana shakes her head. "Not any stranger than the rest of this town. Actually," She turns and stares at the blonde, smiling approvingly.

"You're alright, Fabray."

A sad smile graces Quinn's features as she disagrees, "No, not really." Which makes Santana's own smile falter.

"But in time I think I will be." she adds, catching sight of her frown.

Santana just nods and clears her throat. She stares off to the side, needing a second. What is it about blondes that reduce her to a puddle of mush? Seriously. Another second and she might've just pulled that girl in for a much needed hug.

Gross.

"Yeah well," Realizing they had stopped in front of what Santana assumes is Quinn's apartment building, she turns to leave.

"See you later, Barbie." She waves over her shoulder.

"Goodnight, Satan."

Santana stops, then slowly turns around. Did she hear right?

A hint of a smile plays across Quinn's lips. "Don't tell me that's the first time you've ever been called that."

"No." Santana scoffs. "But you are the only one dumb enough to call me that to my face." Well, _back_, technically.

Quinn raises that perfectly arched brow of hers. "Should I be worried then?"

Santana does the same. "If you value your life, yes."

Quinn is unperturbed. Shaking her head, she turns back around. "I'll see you Monday, Santana."

The quirk of the blonde's lips does not go unnoticed by her. _Bitch_. Getting an idea, Santana smiles deviously to herself as she picks up a handful of snow from the ground and pats it into a ball.

When it's ready, she whips the snowball at Quinn's head with striking precision. Santana cackles at the sight and smiles triumphantly. Quinn doesn't say anything, but the expression on her face says it all for her.

Santana slowly begins backing away out of throwing range should blondie try and retaliate. Which she looks like she has every intention of doing.

"You fucking pelt me with that snow Fabray and I will end you." she warns, holding up a stern finger.

Quinn walks forward, patting a perfect snowball together in her gloved hands. "Threaten me all you want Santana." she shrugs, smirking. "You don't intimidate me. You're all bark and no bite."

"Whatever." she scoffs. "You're all latte and no foam."

Quinn stops, her brow adorably furrowed. "What?"

Yeah, she doesn't even know what the means either. But she's not gonna fess up to it.

Grabbing another handful of snow, she launches it at Quinn before up and bolting around the corner. "Later."

She doesn't expect Quinn to chase after her - that's more Brittany's deal - but the blonde actually does and more than that, successfully pelts her with a snowball.

"Holy motherfucking goddamn son of a..." Gasping, Santana spins around, trying in vain to get the already melting ice from out underneath her clothes. "Jesus Christ. Are you trying to give me pneumonia? Fuck, I could get hypothermia from this shit and die!"

"You're very dramatic." Quinn comments, bemused. "And need I remind you that you are the one who started all this?"

Santana frowns unhappily. "Do that again and I'll bury your bleach blonde head in the snow." she warns. "Make you look like an ostrich."

Quinn walks right up to her and before Santana knows what hits her, blondie's blowing a handful of snow in her face like it was confetti.

As Santana brushes the flurries out of her face, Quinn tilts her head to the side. "You were saying?"

She pierces a withering glare at that cheeky blonde. "Oh it's on like donkey kong."

The words no sooner leave her lips then Quinn sprints in the opposite direction. Santana wastes no time in chasing after her.

There were no more words after that, save for a few insults and empty threats on Santana's part. Just rowdy giggles filling the desolate streets as they chased each other through town, trying to pelt each other with as much snow as possible.

It isn't before long that Santana has snow melting in places she'd rather didn't and a scratchy throat from the cold. She'd be a lot more pissed if she wasn't enjoying herself so much.

Slowing her pace, Santana grudgingly holds her hands up in surrender. She's out of breath and without ammunition. "Okay, okay. You win." The blonde was like a little snowball ninja and she'd sorely underestimated her.

The top of Quinn's head slowly emerges out from her current hiding spot behind the mailbox. Her piercing eyes narrow warily, unsure if this was some kind of a ploy to get her guard down.

"Truce?" She holds her hands up a little higher to show her sincerity and that she didn't anything hidden behind her back or anything.

While Quinn makes her way over to her, Santana tugs her red scarf loose. She'll probably regret it later when she's nursing a sore throat but right now she's too hot to care. "You wanna go bug Brittany?" she asks the blonde, still breathless.

She knows they'd just said their goodbyes for the night a little while ago, but - as much fun as she was having here with Quinn - she was missing her other blonde too.

Quinn brushes the snow off her shoulders and frowns. "Won't her parents mind us dropping by unannounced at this hour?"

"Nah." Santana waves it off dismissively, leading them in the right direction. "Britt's parents are cool."

—

"I thought you said her parents were cool." Quinn whispers, crouched down behind her as they maneuver stealth-mode like across Brittany's backyard.

"They are." Santana insists. "Well, usually." she amends. "But lately Britt's been lagging on her schoolwork and they kind of think _I_ have something to do with it, so they try to limit just how much time we spend together." She rolls her eyes briefly.

"Then why are we here?"

"Because we don't have school tomorrow and if I go home now my abuela's just gonna hassle me into closing up the restaurant or doing something that isn't sitting on the couch and watching tv." Santana looks back at her and snorts. "Don't tell me you suddenly have pressing engagements to attend to, your highness?"

"No." Quinn glares. "I just don't want to get Brittany in trouble. And for all we know she doesn't even want company right now. It's impolite to just show up without a proper invitation, you know."

Santana rolls her eyes and whips out her cell phone, hitting the first number on her speed dial.

"Hello?"

"Hey, B." Santana lifts her gaze to the house in front of them. "Mind if me and Q stop by to hang out?"

"What?" Brittany's enthusiasm overtakes her surprise. "Of course not!"

Santana gives Quinn one of those 'I told you so' sidelong glances before reverting her attention forward. "Cool beans. We're in your backyard right now so open up your window and let us in girlie."

"I thought I heard something." Brittany chuckles, coming to the window and lifting it open. "Figured it was just the gnomes talking loudly again." She waves down at them.

Santana pockets her cell phone and hurries over to the side of the house where she knows Brittany's dad's ladder to be. "Make yourself useful, Q." she demands, prompting the girl to action.

Quinn reluctantly helps her with the ladder. "And why can't we just sneak in through the back door?"

"Wanky." Santana snickers.

"Where's the fun in that?" Brittany questions, hearing the question and leaning out her window. She beckons them forward. "Hurry up you two. It's freezing reindeer balls out here."

Santana more than willingly scampers up the ladder, relishing in the heat Brittany's bedroom offers. "Oh fuck yes." she sighs, walking deeper into her room and plopping herself down on the queen-sized bed, much to the dismay of Lord Tubbington who grudgingly scatters from his place.

"Sorry about the mess." Brittany says of her room, helping Quinn inside.

"No she's not." Santana says, still happily lying on her back.

"Were you guys outside long? Your noses are all red." Brittany inquires, closing her window.

Santana and Quinn share a knowing look. "Kind of." Santana answers vaguely, now propped up by her elbows.

"Well I'm gonna go sneak us some cookies and hot chocolate." Brittany declares now that she has company.

"If it's that instant crap from those god awful packets then I don't want any." Santana says. She likes the real stuff, thank you very much.

"You say that now..." Brittany shakes her head, rolling her eyes playfully. "Be right back."

Santana kicks off her boots and shimmies up Brittany's bed to get comfortable. As she props herself up with pillows, she notices Quinn lingering uncomfortably by the window. "What are you waiting for? Take off your jacket and siéntate."

"I don't understand what we're doing here."

Santana rolls her eyes. "Jesus Fabray we're here to hang out. We're gonna gorge on junk food and watch crappy tv and if we're lucky," Turning onto her side, she props her head up with her hand and wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. "Brittany will draw us like one of her french girls."

Her smirk falters at Quinn's blank expression. "I take it that means you've never seen Titanic." She rolls her eyes again and moves back to her previous spot. "Figures. There is so much we need to educate you on it's exhausting."

"You make me sound so uncultured." Quinn frowns. "I'll have you know I am well versed in a variety of subjects. Languages, history, art, political science..."

"Yawn." Santana rolls onto her other side, so that her back faced Quinn. "Wake me when Britt comes back with the grub."

Brittany walks back in shortly thereafter, carefully carrying along three mugs of hot chocolate - marshmallows included - and a ziploc bag of snickerdoodle cookies.

After distributing the mugs of hot chocolate, Brittany joins Santana on her bed. Her brow furrows when she realizes Quinn was still standing by her desk.

"C'mon, Quinn." Brittany scoots over and pats the empty space between her and Santana. "We don't bite."

"Not unless you want us to." Santana gleams wolfishly, biting down playfully on her cookie.

Quinn looks tempted, but ultimately declines, choosing instead to sit at Brittany's desk. The carefree Quinn that had chased Santana out in the town square had apparently gone back into hiding.

They settle on One Tree Hill, a favorite of Brittany's, to watch. It's just like normal. Her and Brittany sitting on her bed, watching tv, drinking hot chocolate. Only now they've got Quinn.

Santana can tell Brittany wants desperately to say something, to try and convince Quinn to join them on the bed, by the way her gaze flickers from the television. Usually nothing can tear her eyes away from her OTH but not today.

She wants to remind her that she shouldn't try to push things but Quinn's right there and even if she whispered in Brittany's ear, the other blonde might still hear them.

Once One Tree Hill's over, Santana takes over the controls, while Brittany gets up in favor of painting. She walks over to her makeshift studio in the corner where an easel is set up. As she ties her apron around her waist, she notices that Quinn is sitting directly in her line of view.

_Light bulb_.

"Hey, Quinn." Brittany quickly switches out her current canvas for a new one, suddenly giddy with her new idea. "Is it alright if I paint you?"

Santana turns her head at that request, brow raised. Naturally she looks over at Quinn for her reaction. "Um...sure. Okay." She can tell Quinn's uncomfortable with the idea but she doesn't have the heart to reject Brittany.

Suddenly anxious, Quinn stands. She sets down her mug and fiddles with her hands, unsure of what to do with herself. "Do you need me to stand or...?"

Brittany shakes her head. "No, just sit back down and keep doing what you were doing before, you know watching tv and whatnot. Don't mind me. You just look really pretty with the way the light's hitting you now."

Brittany comes around and tilts her head to the side, carefully regarding Quinn.

Quinn shifts self-consciously under the taller blonde's gaze. "What?"

"Do you ever braid your hair?" Brittany wonders.

Quinn shakes her head, confused. "Not really. No."

Brittany whips around, her eyes alight. "San, do you think you could braid Quinn's hair for her? I've got this idea for her portrait and she'd look just phenomenal with her hair braided."

Santana smiles pityingly at Quinn, who looks uncomfortable enough as it is simply from suddenly being the subject of Brittany's newest piece. "Sure, B."

Brittany beams in triumph and twirls back around to face Quinn. "Is that okay with you?" she asks, giving the blonde that hopeful 'please say yes' smile.

Quinn releases another heavy sigh before giving Brittany a small consenting nod.

Brittany squeals her excitement. "Don't worry, Santana's really good at braiding hair." she assures.

"Psh." Santana pushes herself off the bed and cracks her knuckles. "I'm a master at it, Britt."

It doesn't take long for her to do a side braid on Quinn, as per Brittany's request. Once she's done, she steps in front of Quinn to examine her work. Santana purses her lips together. Something wasn't right, or rather, something was missing.

Quickly realizing what that something was, she makes quick dash to Brittany's bathroom to get some hair gel. She has it in Quinn's hair before Quinn can protest.

"Oh my god, San! You're a genius!" Brittany exclaims, looking up from her paints and seeing her creation. She quickly comes over to stand by Santana and admire her work. "That's so perfect. So..."

"Her." Santana quietly finishes.

It _was_ so her.

And it stuns Santana just how much so.

With this pushed back, spiky, regal look, it was like she was seeing Quinn for the first time.

"Are you sure you've never worn your hair like this?" Santana questions, a little unnerved at just how familar this situation suddenly was.

Like she's been here before. In this _same_ situation. Santana takes a step back, struck with confusing case of deja vu. She could have sworn she's seen that very hairstyle on Quinn before. Maybe at school?

"I assure you, no." Quinn stands and looks at herself in Brittany's mirror, unsure of what to make of her new hairstyle. "I don't even own hair gel."

The smile that helplessly tugs at the blonde's lips leads Santana to believe she quite liked it.

Which leaves Santana feeling ridiculously proud.

"Oh!" Brittany perks up with realization, inadvertently yanking Santana out of her moment. "I almost forgot!"

Both Santana and Quinn look over with curiosity as Brittany runs over to the other side of her room and pulls a folded piece of paper from out of her backpack. "Look at what I found posted in the girl's bathroom."

She unfolds the flyer and hands it to Quinn.

After a quick glance over Quinn's shoulder, Santana lifts her gaze to meet that of her exuberant best friend.

"What the fuck is the New Directions?"

—

Brittany wants to join glee club.

_Glee club_.

"Auditions are next week." she informs, her eyes positively brimming with excitement.

"No way, Britt."

Glee club is social suicide and Brittany knows it, but _of course_, she doesn't care.

She's never cared about the opinions of others. She does what she loves regardless of what people may think or say. End of story.

Santana only wishes she could say the same and actually be honest about it.

Brittany pouts at her flat out rejection of the idea. Aside from painting, she just so happens to _love_ to sing and dance. "C'mon San." she begs.

"Now that that creepy Mr. Ryerson isn't involved anymore, it sounds like it could be a lot of fun. And don't act like you can't sing or dance because we both know that you can."

True she was all kinds of crazy talented in that department but that didn't mean she wanted to spend what little free time she had singing and dancing to lame ass showtunes. She'd rather be taken out to the woods and shot down like a horse.

_But _in spite of all that, she fixes her best friend with a pleading stare, knowing that in the end the blonde was a mastermind at getting her way. All Brittany had to do was stare at her with those ridiculously pretty baby blues and smile that cute little smile and she'd cave faster than Eeyore's house on a blustery day.

(All these references to children's stories are all Brittany's doing, by the way.)

"Britt." she starts, groaning in that way that basically translates to _don't make me do this_.

"It'll be fun." Brittany persists, her eyes just as pleading, maybe more so. "The three of us can audition together -"

Quinn's head shoots up, her eyes suddenly wide with alarm. "Excuse me?"

Her fear makes this whole situation a little more okay with Santana. At least she'd be able to drag blondie down the road of public humilation with her.

Heh.

"C'mon, Quinn." Brittany encourages. "It'll be a great bonding experience for all of us."

Santana shoots her best friend an unnconvinced sidelong glance.

Quinn shakes her head, made ill at ease within a matter of seconds. "I think I'll pass, Brittany." she begins delicately, not wanting to hurt her fellow blonde's feelings. "I'm not too comfortable performing in front of others. Or at all really."

"Don't worry, Quinn. Santana and I have your back from now on. We're not gonna let you embarrass yourself. Not that it's humanly possible. You're too awesome for that." Brittany babbles, grinning.

While touched, Quinn is still very much reluctant. And with good reason.

"We'll let you pick the song." Brittany offers, hoping it'd serve as persuasion enough.

"Hold up." Santana raises a hand, _so_ not okay with that. She sends a quick look Quinn's way. "No offense but you might have crap taste in music and if I'm going to be roped into doing this," She glances back at the _other_ blonde. "I want at least some say in what song we use to humiliate ourselves."

Brittany playfully rolls her eyes at her. "We are not going to humiliate ourselves. I mean how can we? We're a trinity now, and trinity's are epic, therefore our performance is going to be epic." she states matter-of-factly.

"An epic disaster." Santana corrects. Does Brittany even know if Quinn can sing or dance? Hell for all they know she's tone deaf and pigeon-toed.

"A trinity? As in...the Holy Trinity?" Quinn wonders.

Santana snorts. "I'm about as holy as I am straight."

Brittany smirks at that. "_Unholy_ Trinity then." She raises her brow at Santana. "Better?"

"It's alright." she shrugs, conceding to a smile.

Brittany beams.

On the other side of the spectrum, Quinn's pursed her lips held a frown. "I don't know if I like being thought of as unholy."

Santana rolls her eyes at her in a sidelong glance. "Well get used to it, Fabray. The name stays." she declares.

Cause hey, if they're gonna be a trinity, they might as well be an unholy one.

"Just like our names on the glee club sign up sheet in the hall." Brittany nods, slipping it in there oh so subtly.

But not subtle enough to get it past both Santana and Quinn.

"What?" She shrugs innocently at the similar looks she receives from them both. "It's true. I wrote it in _sharpie_. That stuff stays on there for life."

Santana just chuckles. Surprisingly, so does Quinn.

—

That night no one went home, the three of them having spent the rest of night trying to come up with song selections for their sudden glee club audition. Santana, of course, suggested they do Amy Winehouse, while Brittany suggested girl groups, like TLC or Destiny's Child. From there Quinn suggested the Supremes because really, if it wasn't for them, none of those groups would even exist, and it was just so perfect that they just ran with it.

It turned out to be surprisingly fun, trying to make up choreography in Brittany's cluttered room while trying not to wake her parents up. And not to mention exhausting, but in the best way. Santana's not sure what time they passed out, but she's pretty sure it was already morning when they did.

Santana groans inwardly when she feels herself awakening, even though she was still dead tired. She refuses to open her eyes, so she can't tell what time it is, but if she'd had to guess it was probably around the time her alarm clock usually went off.

Ugh. It's fucking Saturday. Doesn't her body know that?

Frustrated, she buries her face further into her warm pillow with a sigh. She squeezes it closer to her body, not all prepared for it to go and exhale on her.

What the...?

Drowsily, Santana pulls back and slowly blinks her eyes open. It takes her a second to get her bearings, but when she does, she takes a look around and realizes she was in bed with Brittany and Quinn.

And were they, really...?

Yeah. They were all definitely spooning.

She's spooning Quinn, who's spooning Brittany. (Ironic that the tallest one of them all is the baby spoon).

Well, it could be worse. At least she wasn't getting her cuddles on with Lord Tubbington - that tabby was nothing but a fat ol' stink bomb with fur.

Too sleepy to be truly bothered by their sleeping arrangements, Santana rests her head back down against Quinn's shoulder.

The blonde shifts again, evidently awakened by her movement. "You're drooling on my shirt, Santana." Quinn sighs, her voice thick with sleep.

"S'not mine." she mumbles, already well on her way to falling back asleep.

"I'm making you wash it."

"Fine, whatever. Shut up so I get my zzz's back on."

Santana hisses when Quinn takes the opportunity to jab her in the ribs. "Don't tell me to shut up." she orders sleepily.

"Yes, _your highness_."

Another jab.

"Don't call me that."

Santana curses under her breath. "Figures the only time you want to talk is at five o'clock in the freaking morning." she mutters.

"You're the one still talking." Quinn reminds. "And to yourself I might add."

"Shove it, Fabray. Afores I end you."

"Both of you shove it, or I'm throwing you out." Brittany declares grumpily, turning around to whack them both with her pillow.

Quinn shakes her head tiredly at the blonde. "So violent."

Behind her, Santana snorts. "You should see her with a frying pan."

—

Later that morning, after they got in a little more sleep time, the three of them head over to abuela's restaurante for breakfast.

(Santana figures her abuela is less likely to murder her for sleeping over at Brittany's if there are people around).

"Remind me to take it easy on your mom's cookies next time, Britt." she says, a hand pressed against her admittedly upset stomach.

"We warned you." Brittany sighs, exchanging a sidelong glance with Quinn. "But you said you could handle it. Said Lopez's have iron stomachs."

"And we do. I just couldn't properly digest my food because _someone_ disrupted by sleep pattern." Santana says, turning to glare at the other blonde in question.

Quinn rolls her eyes at her. "Your sleep patterns have nothing to do with your body's digestion process, Santana."

Santana scoffs. "Shows what you know."

"Hey." Both Quinn and Santana stop when Brittany suddenly grabs their arms. "Look at that."

Santana follows her friend's gaze up to the clock tower across the street. Her brow automatically lifts at the sight.

"Someone finally fixed the clock." Quinn realizes.

For as long as Santana can remember - there's that saying again - the time on that clock has always been stuck on 8:15. It always used to annoy the hell out of her whenever she'd look up and see it on her way to school. Made her feel like no time was passing here at all, like everything and everyone here was stuck. Frozen in existence.

"Well it's about _fucking_ time."

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading and reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: First off, Happy New Year all! Second, thank you so much for the kind reviews, that was a nice surprise. Truthfully I didn't have any plans to continue this, I'd just had that one idea but then I found myself brainstorming and so spawned this monstrous second chapter.  
**

**This chapter takes place in the Enchanted Forest, er...Fairy Tale Land? Whatever, same difference. If you didn't already figure it out, here are the Trinity's fairy tale counterparts.**

**Santana - Red Riding Hood (Using OUAT's version as the basis, but plan to change the backstory and such a little).**

**Quinn - Elsa (From _Frozen_, obviously.)**

**Brittany - Rapunzel (The _Tangled_ version, just because there's a lot to work with there. But I am altering her story a little too, and how her magical hair works, so it doesn't _completely_ follow the movie's events or ending.)**

**Anyways, read. enjoy. review!**

* * *

_God damnit_.

Frustrated, Red turns around for what feels like the umpteenth time and impatiently tugs at her dragging cloak - the one catching on just about every little thing in her path.

If it wasn't for the stupid scrap of fabric she'd have reached her destination already.

Blowing out a calming breath, Red's eyes fit to the sky briefly, at the sunshine peeking out through the treetops, then returns her gaze to the ground to do a quick scan of her surroundings.

When she's sure there's no signs of life around, she pushes down her hood and shrugs off her heavy red cloak. Cloaks and summer just did not mix, especially for a werewolf who overheated enough as it was.

As she smoothes out the wrinkles and drapes the cloak over one arm, Red flashes back to all those instances where her grandmother warned her against doing such a thing.

_"That cloak is the only thing that will keep the wolf at bay, mija. You must wear it at all times. It will keep you safe."_

But more importantly, it would keep _others_ safe.

But that was then. This things were different now. Her cloak was no longer the security blanket it once was. She had long given up using it as an excuse to live in fear of herself rather than learn control.

She was done living that way - hiding behind her cloak, constantly isolating herself out of fear she'd hurt someone. That wasn't living and she'd be damned if she allowed herself to waste another seventeen years continuing to do so.

Hell just thinking about the life she could have led if she'd only tried to control her wolf sooner, rather than let it control _her_, made her want to strangle herself with her own hood.

Shaking her head - after all what good is thinking about all the what ifs and if onlys? - Red walks up to the rockwall at the end of her path and pushes aside the thick curtain of vines that covered the secret entrance. She proceeds through the short tunnel and comes out on the other side, to where a small clearing housed a lone tower in the very center.

She smiles faintly at the sight, relieved that she'd finally reached the endpoint of her journey. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she sets forward until she was right under the tower window.

As she cranes her neck back, she presses her two fingers to her lips and blows out a sharp, piercing whistle.

"Hey, Blondie!"

The blonde in question appears after a moment, her head poking out of the window. "Is that anyway to address a princess?" she questions, her brow raised.

"For me it is." she nods.

A beaming smile overtakes the girl's face. "Glad to know my being a royal hasn't changed you, Red."

"Likewise, Rapunzel." she nods, smiling genuinely.

It's been a couple weeks since she last saw Rapunzel, where in she helped the blonde reunite with her parents, who she'd been taken from as a baby and locked in away in a tower for seventeen years by a batshit crazy old broad with serious aging issues. Now the two were thick as thieves.

Red stares up at the blonde, holding up her basketful of goodies as to remind her best friend why she was here in the first place. "So are you coming down or am I coming up?"

Rapunzel just grins and throws her long ass hair out the window. "Climb on up, buddy."

—

Red leans back on her hands, idly glancing around Rapunzel's room. The walls are still covered in the blonde's artistically cheery paintings. Anyone who didn't know would never have guessed that this place had been used as a place of imprisonment for the now "ex - Lost Princess of Corona".

"I don't see why you like coming back to this place when you've got a palace to call home now." She turns her head and stares at the blonde, her brow furrowed inquisitively. "I mean doesn't this place just bring back all those crap memories of being a prisoner here?"

Surprisingly, Rapunzel's lips draw together at that remark. "I wouldn't say I was a prisoner exactly." she mumbles, biting down on a carrot stick.

"Rapunzel," Red's brow lifts as she gently reminds, "You couldn't leave, remember?"

The blonde nods concedingly, her gaze downcast. The patterning on her dress was apparently more interesting. "Yeah, but it wasn't like I was chained to the wall or anything." she says, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "It wasn't all that bad here, you know."

Red stares at Rapunzel closely, not used to seeing this lackluster side of her friend. "What's going on, Goldilocks?"

Rapunzel smiles faintly at Red's other nickname for her and sighs. "It's just...everything changed so fast. And adjusting to this new life - being a princess - is a lot harder than I expected." she confesses unexpectedly.

The dejected look on her face tugs on Red's heartstrings. Straightening up, she crawls over to her best friend's side and throws a comforting arm around the blonde. Rapunzel leans into the embrace without hesitation.

"This tower is all I've known for my entire life. And when I'm at the castle I don't feel like I'm at home like I should. There I feel more alone than ever, even more than when I was locked up here with mother- I mean _that_ woman." Rapunzel cringes slightly at her slip up. "And I hate it. I don't want to feel this way. I thought reuniting with my family would mean I'd never feel alone again but it just makes it worse."

"I'm sorry, Goldie." Red offers, rubbing the girl's shoulder.

Sighing, Rapunzel lifts her head and turns around to fully regard Red. "Why can't you just come back to Corona with me? Our castle's huge and I don't think the king and -" Once again Rapunzel has to correct herself. "I mean my _parents_ would mind you staying with us for a while. They can spare a bedroom, they have hundreds. You can have the one next to mine!" she suggests, her eyes suddenly brimming with excitement.

Red's lips curve to form a sympathetic smile. "Rapunzel I can't just abandon my grams to live with you in a castle, however tempting it is. She needs me. And besides, I have a life back home." Granted it wasn't much of one but still... "I can't just leave it."

Rapunzel's shoulders deflate. "Yeah, I know." she sighs, shaking her head. "It was worth a shot." She looks over at Red again. "I just hate that I don't get to see you all the time." she pouts. "You're my best friend."

"And you're mine." Red smiles, reaching out and squeezing her hand.

Rapunzel beams, feeling significantly better than she did before just from those words alone. The blonde pauses for a moment, preoccupying herself with picking up Pascal from the floor, before continuing, "So...I have another question for you."

"Uh-oh." Red says jokingly, plucking a single grape from the bunch.

It's as she's popping it in her mouth that she sees that Pascal, Rapunzel's weird little frog - er, chameleon - friend, had moved to his usual perch atop her friend's shoulder. He too has a grape in his mouth, but due to his small size, it makes his one cheek look all bloated and huge.

It's a pretty cute sight if Red was being honest.

She must have been staring too long because now Pascal has noticed it, which leads to a weird moment of eye contact.

It's awkward and they both seem to know it.

She _really_ wished she could say this didn't happen often, but it did.

"Uh," Red shakes her head uncomfortably, reverting her attention to the chameleon's owner. "What were you saying?"

Rapunzel chuckles. "I was about to say do you think you can get away long enough to go on another adventure with me?"

"Adventure?" Red raises her brow, confused but intrigued. "What do you mean?"

Rapunzel shifts around so she was sitting cross-legged and completely facing her. "Well it turns out I have a distant cousin who's like a queen and her sister whose a princess. My mother tried to explain the exact connection but it was too complicated for me to understand - not even Pascal knew what she was talking about." She waves her hand to get back on point. "Anyways, since we missed her coronation, my parents want me to pay them a visit."

Red rubs the back of her neck unsurely. "To where exactly?"

"Arendelle."

"Never heard of it."

"It's north of here, across the sea." Rapunzel looks at her expectantly, her eyes hopeful. "So...wanna come?"

"I don't do boats."

Rapunzel rolls her eyes briefly. "You also don't do horseback. It's a wonder you get anywhere."

Red playfully glares at her. "Hey, remember these?" She extends her legs out in front of her and makes a point of them. "They're called legs. It's what normal people use to get themselves places."

"C'mon, Red." Rapunzel smiles pleadingly, squeezing her hands insistently. "Please? My parents are insisting I go and I really don't want to travel all that way by myself. I could really use a buddy."

Red silently groans when Rapunzel flashes that adorably sweet smile - the one she knows she can't resist - her way.

"Okay, fine." she relents with a heavy sigh.

Rapunzel squeals excitedly and does a cute little triumphant hand gesture. "You're the greatest, Red."

Red steals another sandwich and takes a hearty bite. "Tell me something I don't know." she smirks, her voice muffled by the mouthful.

Rapunzel takes that line to heart. "Well...according to my parents, my cousin has magical powers. Like she can manipulate ice and snow and stuff. In fact just recently she accidentally froze her entire kingdom..."

Red stops mid-chew. She takes a moment to swallow. "Come again?"

"It's okay." Rapunzel assures like it's not a big deal. "Apparently she's had some issues controlling her powers but they're all good now. No more eternal winter. It's in part why my parents wanted me to visit, to see if we can offer them any assistance in their recovery."

Red blinks. Then, out of habit, shares a glance with the frog as if to say, _did you know about this?_

(And really she _has_ to stop treating Pascal like he's an actual fucking person).

"So let me get this straight." Once she gets her bearings, Red lifts her gaze to meet Rapunzel's. "You want to go off and visit some unstable ice princess who could potentially turn us into icicles the second we arrive?"

Rapunzel nods. "Yes."

"Are you crazy?"

Her brow furrows. "No. She's family and family helps each other." Seeing Red's unconvinced stare, Rapunzel reminds, "You already gave me your word. You can't back out now."

Red heaves another sigh. "I'm just trying to look out for you. For both of us. I mean the last adventure we went on we did nearly get ourselves killed by that psycho step-mom of yours. No offense but I'd rather not have a repeat of that and get like frozen to death or something."

"For all we know my cousin's really harmless."

"And for all we know she's really not."

Rapunzel's frown deepens. "I'd have thought you _of all people_ would be a little more understanding and not be so quick to judge someone you don't even know about something they have no control over."

Red makes a face, knowing that her friend did have a valid point and kind of hating her for it. Why'd she have to be so damn right all the time?

"For all we know we'll become the best of buds with her." Rapunzel continues.

Red snorts at the very idea. "Yeah, I don't really see that happening."

"And anyways aren't you the one always saying the cold never bothers you? You know you're acting less like a Big Bad Wolf and more like L-"

Red holds up a finger, interjecting before that awful, _awful_ name could be uttered aloud. "Don't even say it, Blondie." she warns.

Rapunzel, if anything, is amused by her reaction. "I don't see why the name bothers you so much." she shrugs. "If I had to have a nickname, might as well be Little Red Riding Hood. How cute is that?"

"Ugh." Red shudders at the mention of her old childhood moniker - the one that still haunted her to this very day.

When she registers the light giggling coming from the blonde, her grimace deepens. "That'd be like if people called you Little...Blonde...Growing Hair."

Rapunzel looks at her and releases a short laugh. "That's the best you got?"

Red scoffs a laugh. "Shut up." she glares, playfully flicking a grape her way. "It was off the top of my head."

"Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, does it?" Rapunzel further teases.

Red arches one eyebrow at her. "Oh, and like _Rapunzel_ does?"

Scrunching up her nose, Rapunzel leans forward and punches her in the arm. "Jerk."

Red pulls a face at the surprisingly hurtful contact. "Well, at least you didn't resort to your go-to weapon of choice." she mumbles, gingerly rubbing her now tender left bicep.

Rapunzel throws her head back and groans exasperatedly. "One time, Red. I hit you in the face with a frying pan and knock you out _one time_."

"One time is all it takes. And don't forget you also stuffed my unconscious ass in your freakin' closet." Sure it'd all been a misunderstanding of her being some kind of criminal, but still... "My spine hasn't been the same since, by the way."

Rapunzel sits back on her hands and shakes her head at her. "You are never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Not any time soon, no." Red smirks.

Rapunzel rolls her eyes before jokingly posing the question, "Tell me why are we friends again?"

Red smiles to herself, already knowing her response. "Because you're the only one who doesn't care that I sometimes turn into a bloodthirsty wolf."

Rapunzel thinks about it and nods. "True."

"And I'm the only one who doesn't judge you for treating a chameleon like it's an actual person." she adds, smiling teasingly. She's gonna hold off mentioning that she actually sometimes is guilty of doing the exact same thing.

"And for that I _thank you_."

Red nods, knowing that, joking aside, the blonde truly was grateful. Talking to Pascal in public was something others in Corona tended to tease her about and give her strange looks for, and Rapunzel appreciated that she never did that to her.

Just as Red appreciated how Rapunzel never made her feel like she was different (even though she obviously was). But more importantly, Rapunzel never _feared_ her. And that meant more to her than words could ever express.

Red extends her reach so the two could meet in the middle and fist bump. "Likewise, Blondie."

—

Red's the first one off the ship when it finally docks. She wasn't kidding when she said she didn't do boats. Not because she gets seasick or has a fear of drowning or anything like that, she just doesn't like being confined to an enclosed space with no way of escape. Especially where other people are concerned.

Wolves and captivity just do not go together. Like at all.

While waiting on Rapunzel to catch up to her, Red takes inventory of her new surroundings for the first time. (Before she'd been too preoccupied with keeping herself in check to bother paying it any attention).

The view was nothing short of breathtaking. Like something out of a painting, the evergreen color palette of it all was so natural and _fresh_.

Just how Red likes it.

Feeling the breeze on her face, she inhales deeply. The crisp mountain air that permeated the kingdom provided a much needed comfort to her, its' scent reminding her of home, of the forest.

"Red, you ready?"

Breaking from her daze, she turns around to find Rapunzel and her horse, Maximus, standing behind her. "Yeah," she confirms with a nod. "Ready when you are."

As the two of them - well, _three_ if you count Max (four if you count Pascal) - make their way through Arendelle, Red notices a lot of things about the small northern kingdom. For one, while their castle was every bit as dignified and grand, it wasn't nearly as extravagent as Rapunzel's family's place. But Red liked it nonetheless. Preferred it, actually.

Another thing: for a kindgom that was supposedly struggling with the aftermath of their queen's so-called 'eternal winter', things looked relatively normal to her. No signs of devastation whatsoever; in fact the people seemed perfectly content.

Not that Red was complaining or anything. She'd take it all as signs that the queen's 'curse' had been greatly exaggerated and that maybe the queen herself wasn't all that dangerous, unlike what all the people of their ship thought.

The whole voyage here, nothing but whispers of her, speculations and rumors, filled the ship. Red didn't even know the girl and already she had her empathy. After all she knew first hand what it felt like to have people talking about you behind your back and it wasn't a feeling she'd wish on anyone.

Except her enemies, of course.

—

By the time they actually reach the castle, the excitement that had preoccupied Rapunzel from the second they departed in Corona had all but been extinguished. In its place a gnawing anxiety took over.

"What if they don't like me? What if they don't like Pascal?" Rapunzel looks over at her with worried eyes, then turns away quickly, her mind running rampant. She glances down unsurely at her favorite pink and purple dress. "Do you think I should have worn something more formal...more princess-y? I should have, shouldn't I?"

Red shakes her head, the blonde's unease making both her and her wolf a little on edge. "Blondie, relax." she calmly orders, knowing if she didn't neither one of them was going to make it inside the castle. "And breathe. You got this. You're gonna love your cousins and they're gonna love you."

"I hope so." Rapunzel eyes the castle with apprehension. "I've never done this before. At least not without my parents around to make sure I don't say something stupid." She whips around again, her eyes even wider than before. "Red, what if I say something stupid and destory our kingdoms' whole relationship and they decide to declare war on Corona? It'll be all my fault..."

"Hey, hey," Red clasps her friend's shoulders and forces her to meet her eyes. "What did I just say? It's going to be okay. I believe in you. Know why?"

Rapunzel shakes her head unknowingly.

"Because you're epic. Like...the princess to end all princesses." She beams at the blonde's quirked lips. "There isn't a princess alive that doesn't wish she had your awesomeness."

Rapunzel's smile grows more bashful at her words. "Thanks, Red." Sniffling, she blows out a much needed breath. "Okay then."

She turns and squares her shoulders, trying to get in that 'Princess of Corona' state of mind. "You're right. Of course you're right. You're always right. Well, except that time-"

Red quietly clears her throat and discreetly nods to the guard coming their way. She can hear Rapunzel swallow so she sticks close by her side just in case. "Everything's going to be fine." she reassures one last time.

Rapunzel just nods.

The guard that approaches them does not bother with pleasantries, instead choosing to get right down to it. "Please state your name and business."

"Er," Rapunzel bites down on her lip, then exchanges a quick glance with Red. "I am Rapunzel, Princess of Corona, here to see my cousins, the Princess and the Queen. They're uh, expecting us."

Silently cringing, she looks at Red again, as if to say, _was that alright?_

Red just smiles and nods while the guard takes a look at his clipboard. After a moment, he lifts his gaze and announces, "I have no record of any royals coming to visit her majesty and her highness today."

Red and Rapunzel share another look before the latter finally speaks up again. "Well...we did come earlier than expected." she amends, sheepishly reverting her attention to the guard. "We would have sent notice but by then we were already on the boat and it was too late."

The guard says nothing but eyes them both skeptically.

Red's expression hardens. "She's not lying." she snaps, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Just ask them yourself."

The guard clears his throat and nods. "Right this way then."

While his back is turned, Rapunzel raises her eyebrows at Red before they head inside. In turn, she just smirks.

She always did have a knack for the intimidation game.

She was, after all, the Big Bad Wolf.

Heh.

—

After a short walk through the castle, one of the servants leads them into the throne room. Or at least that's what Red assumes the room is called...considering there's a throne at the end of it.

Also at the end of the hall was a freckled girl around their age, lounging on the throne with her head hanging off the side, a box of chocolates in her lap. Beside her was a blonde guy propped up against the throne, idly playing the lute.

The pair startles to attention the second the doors boom open.

The strawberry blonde was particularly caught off-guard. "I didn't steal them from the kitchen I swear!" she asserts, using the back of her hand to wipe her mouth clean of any chocolate.

In a very un-princesslike manner, Red might add.

"They're apart of my secret stash - you know the one I keep in my room. Yeah, that's it. I definitely didn't sneak into the kitchen while Kristoff was distracting the cook and take them when no one was looking - _oh_." A huge sigh of relief escapes her when it registers that they weren't her older sister coming to reprimand her. "Kai." Her shoulders visibly slacken. "I thought you were Elsa for a second."

"No, your highness."

The princess blows out an exaggerated breath, laughing awkwardly. "Right." She turns to them expectantly, smiling curiously. "And who's this?"

Kai raises his chin. "Announcing Princess Rapunzel of Corona and..." His voice falters as he steals a sidelong glance at Red. He hardly doubted that she was royalty, and therefore worth mentioning, but his job required to do so anyways.

As a result, Red has to resist the urge to roll her eyes. "Just call me Red."

The princess's brow furrows in mild confusion. "Like the color?" She rolls her eyes briefly at herself. "Of course like the color, what else is red besides a color? I'm assuming it's a nickname, but what do I know? Maybe your parents just really love the color red and have a quirky sense of style and wanted to name you after their favorite color. And why wouldn't they - red's a really nice color."

And now Red's starting to see the family resemblance.

"Will that be all your highness?" inquires Kai, hands clasped behind his back.

"Yes, thank you Kai." The young royal waits for him to leave before clasping her hands. "Right. Anyways. I'm Anna, if you didn't already know."

The blonde boy next to her clears his throat, subtly reminding them all of his presence. "Oh right." Anna shoots him an apologetic smile before properly introducing them. "This is Kristoff. Arendelle's Ice Master and Deliverer." she declares proudly. "He's also my boyfriend. But that's not why he got the job. He earned it, of course. No favoritism here or anything..."

Anna lightly shakes her head, knowing she was getting sidetracked. "Kristoff, this is my cousin Rapunzel and her friend, Red."

"Nice to meet you both." he smiles earnestly.

"Sorry we dropped by unannounced." Rapunzel smiles apologetically at her cousin. "We came sooner than expected."

"No worries." Anna assures, waving it off like no big deal. "I'm kind of glad actually. I've been waiting for this moment ever since your parents told us you would be coming. It's so cool we have family, I mean for so long it's just been my sister and I."

"My mother told me about your parents, I'm so sorry."

Anna's smile falters a bit. "Me too." It hangs there between them for a moment, then Anna clears her throat. She perks right back up again.

"But we're glad you're here."

Anna subtly nudges her boyfriend then and out of the corner of her eye gives him a pointed look.

It takes a second before it registers. "Oh right." Clearing his throat, Kristoff - along with Anna - throws out his hands in what is apparently a pre-planned gesture.

It's not at all awkward when they exclaim with varying levels of enthusiasm, "Welcome to Arendelle!"

—

Red silently groans when Anna leads them toward yet _another_ room. The one downside of being a guest in a castle she's learned is the complimentary tour.

After about the third or fourth room, Red tuned out of the conversation at hand. She could get away with it without worry - Rapunzel and Anna were getting along so well (no surprise) that neither one would notice if she didn't participate.

On their way to the portrait room (Seriously? Portraits? Blah. Shoot her _now_) Red glances around curiously, seeing the royal servants going about their business but coming up empty-handed when it came to catching a glimpse of the queen herself.

As a result she releases a small huff of frustration.

So she's curious, alright?

While Anna's blabbering on about Joan Whatsherface, Red can't help but bring up the subject. "So, where's your sister? Emma, right?"

"Elsa." Anna corrects lightly. "And she's busy meeting with some delgates from some far off kingdom or another." She waves off the detail unknowingly. "I forget who it is she's meeting with today. Every day it's someone new. She's been crazy busy ever since the whole 'eternal winter' incident. But don't worry, you'll meet her at dinner. She'll probably try to skip out to get more work done but once she knows that you guys are here, she won't be able to-"

The room's double doors open just then, distracting the princess. Red turns around, half expecting the queen, but instead it's just some attendant looking for Anna.

"Your highness, there is a steed outside that refuses to be taken away to the stables."

Red and Rapunzel share a quick glance, realizing they'd kind of forgotten about Maximus. Crap.

"I'll go." Red volunteers without much thought.

Rapunzel looks at her questioningly. "Are you sure?" After all they both know that she kind of hated that fleabag of a steed and vice versa.

In spite of that, Red nods. Nothing was really keeping her here anyways, Rapunzel and Anna were the ones who dominated the conversation, and frankly she was starting to feel like was intruding on a family affair. "You two have a lot to catch up on."

"I can assist you." Kristoff offers, stepping forward. "I'm quite good with animals."

Poor guy was probably looking for an out too, but Red didn't want a companion. She just needed some alone time. And some fresh air.

"Thanks but no thanks, ice man. I can handle Max just fine on my own."

It takes some coaxing, then the promise of apples, but eventually Red's able to get the stubborn ass to allow her to take him to the stables.

As she leads Max in by the reins, she continues her internal ramblings of how he's the brattiest, most annoying three year-old fleabag she's ever met. If it wasn't for Rapunzel, Red probably would have eaten him already.

Not that _she_ particularly liked the taste of horse but her wolf wasn't picky.

Being otherwise preoccupied with her thoughts, she fails to notice the other presence in the barn - er stables, whatever. It isn't until she looks up to see which stall was free for the taking that she realizes that standing before her was none other than the queen of Arendelle herself.

How does she know it's the queen? Well for one Anna showed them her sister's portrait hanging in the hall, and two she highly doubted anyone but the so-called 'snow queen' wore gowns made from what looked to be real ice crystals.

Stopping, Red's eyes dart around unsurely, suddenly feeling like she was intruding on the queen. Fortunately if she wanted to she could make a quick escape undetected as the queen - Eliza, Elise, whatever her name was again - had apparently not heard her come in with Maximus.

She was busy feeding a carrot to a, wait...was that a moose?

Red feels herself do a doubletake because, _what?_

"What's with the moose?"

Before she knows it she's asking that very question outloud, (Anna's not the only one who speaks before she thinks), and unintentionally startling the girl - er, _queen_.

In comparison to her younger sister's comical reaction to being intruded upon, the queen's response is much more subdued.

"He's a reindeer, actually." the blonde responds once she recovers from that mild start. "And you really shouldn't sneak up on people, especially me."

When she completely turns around, Red can't help but stare in awe. That dingy painting hanging in the castle really did not capture her beauty justly.

"I wasn't _trying_ to sneak up on you." She hears herself say. "Not my fault you were too busy making eyes at your donkey to notice me."

"Reindeer." the blonde repeats with slightest twinge of exasperation. "And his name is Sven."

Wait. Was this the same Sven that Kristoff wouldn't shut up about?

Red thinks about it for a second before silently shaking her head.

Nah. He had to have been talking about a person.

...right?

Red glances over at the animal suspiciously, then back at the blonde royal. "Why do you even have him here?"

The blonde stares at her oddly. "Where else would we keep him?"

Red raises her brow. "In the wild...where he belongs?"

The queen's lips twitch up at the corners in an almost smile. Her attention reverts to Sven as she offers him another carrot which he gladly takes. "If you don't mind my asking, who are you exactly?"

When those striking eyes settle back on her, Red feels that dazed feeling coming back on again. "I don't recall ever seeing you before."

"Red."

The queen's brow furrows in confusion. "Red?"

"Red." she confirms with a nod.

The blonde arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Red is a color."

_Well no shit._ Red rolls her eyes internally because really, it isn't as if she hasn't had this same conversation with just about _every_ person who's ever asked her name.

"It's also my name." she sighs.

The girl still has that disbelieving brow raised, which just further annoys her. "What?" she snaps. "You've never heard of people called Violet or Amber? Those are colors too, you know."

"But _Red?_"

Crossing her arms, Red huffs irritably. "Well what's your name then, huh?" she demands.

"Elsa."

_Elsa. Right. Not Elise, idiot._ "Yeah, well like _Elsa's_ any better." she scoffs. "Not very queen-like if you ask me. Better suited for an old broad who makes schnitzel for a living or something."

Elsa cocks her head slightly as she inquires with just a hint of a smile, "Do you typically speak this way to royals?"

Red doesn't even have to think about it. "Basically, yeah." she nods. "My best friend's a princess and she's cool with it."

Elsa just nods and wordlessly goes over to a dun-colored horse opposite Sven, then offers him a carrot.

"She's your cousin, by the way." she adds, getting the feeling Elsa didn't believe her. "My best friend. Rapunzel."

Elsa's eyes widen as it all clicks. She whips around frantically. "Oh god." Realizing it had to be true and that the fact had indeed slipped her mind, she groans. "Was that today?"

Red shakes her head quickly and takes a step closer. "No, we're just...we arrived earlier than expected." she explains, much to the relief of the blonde. "Uh, Rapunzel's with your sister, touring the castle and whatnot."

Elsa nods understandingly, relaxing slightly. "I've just had so much on my mind, so many things I need to get done - it wouldn't have surprised me if I did in fact forget the day of my cousin's arrival." She shakes her head to herself as she lightly pets her horse's mane.

Red just nods, unsure of what to respond with, and watches Elsa tend to her horse. After a minute she finally says, "Hans is a beautiful horse."

"Excuse me?" Elsa stares at her, bewildered. Red just points to the horse's blanket, which clearly has the name _Hans_ sewn into a corner in gold lettering.

"Oh." Elsa shakes her head, understanding now. "His name is not Hans." She hesitates momentarily before eventually saying, "Hans was...his previous owner."

Red raises her brow, then smirks at her less than telling response. She's smart enough to put two and two together. "So Hans was an ex-boyfriend, huh?"

Elsa blinks at her. "Hans is the psychopath who tried to murder both my sister and I and take over our kingdom. He is certainly not my boyfriend, former or otherwise."

_Oh._ Red's smile falters. _Way off mark, Red. Way off._

"So why then do you have his horse?" She wonders not at all awkwardly.

Elsa strokes the horse in between the eyes and shrugs. "It seemed like fair compensation considering. He tried to steal my kingdom, so I took his horse." The blonde smiles up at the animal when he tenderly pushes his muzzle against her cheek. "Not that Sitron needed much persuading."

Yeah, evidently not. He seemed to be a-okay with his new ownership.

Red shifts uncomfortably when Elsa drops a kiss to his nose. "Are you even sure he's a real horse?" she inquires, noting Sitron's zebra striped mane - a unique characteristic common to the horses here, she's noticed. "He might just be an oversized zebra donkey. A zonkey."

Sitron gives an indignant snort at that remark.

And seriously, do all horses understand people talk? Shit.

Elsa fixates her with a mildly admonishing stare as she walks over to her. "You shouldn't make fun of animals. They're perfectly capable of understanding you."

Elsa turns to Maximus expectantly, her eyes softening. "And who is this handsome stallion?"

Red rolls her eyes. "Well I don't know what stallion you're referring to but this mule here is Maximus."

"_Maximus_." Elsa repeats with an approving nod. "What a strong name."

Okay she's pretty sure the horse just straightened up and puffed out his chest at the compliment.

Red stares at him incredulously but Max doesn't pay her any attention, too busy reveling in the attention the gorgeous blonde was giving him.

Typical male.

"Here you go, Maximus." Elsa pulls a carrot from the bunch in her hands and offers him one.

"He prefers apples actually, but thanks..." The rest of Red's sentence dies on her lips as Max, the horse who - in all the time she's known him - has never willingly eaten a vegetable, eagerly chomps down the carrot like it was his first meal in months.

_Seriously?_

Ugh. This whole thing was so despicable she could puke.

"You can put him in that stall over there." Elsa says, pointing to the stall next to Sitron. "I'll see to it that our attendents take good care of him."

"It's okay, I can do it." she assures. She has a feeling she's gonna need to use him as an excuse any time she wanted some alone time. "Max doesn't really like strangers around him. He gets quite rambunctious."

Maximus throws his head back and releases a disagreeing whinny.

_Shut it, fleabag_, she glares.

A royal attendent walks into the stable then. He bows before formally addressing his queen. "Excuse me, your majesty. The dignitaries from the east have arrived."

"Break time is over then." Elsa sighs quietly, her voice not meant to be heard by the attendant. Taking a deep breath, she straightens her posture and nods. "I shall be there momentarily. Thank you, Odin."

"More dignitaries?" Red inquires, scoffing slightly. "That sounds dull as hell."

"Oh it is." Elsa nods, her smile bitter. "But someone has to meet with them." Patting Maximus' cheek one last time, she tells her "I'll see to it that he gets some apples" before beginning to walk away.

"Red."

Elsa looks back at her, her brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"

"He likes red apples." she clarifies.

Elsa nods, managing a small smile. "Duly noted. Do you think you can find your way back alright?" she wonders.

Red nods her head. "I can manage."

"Then I will see you later at dinner, if I get away long enough."

Red's looking forward to it. "Until then, your highness."

Elsa gives her another one of her small, almost-smiles. "Please, call me Elsa."

Right.

After the blonde leaves, Red finds herself left wondering what Elsa looks like when she _really_ smiles, if she ever truly does.

When she finally turns her attention away from the entryway, she's disturbed to find Maximus staring at her.

"What are you looking at?" she sneers.

Fucking horses, man. She'll never understand why people love them so much. They're such creeps.

—

"I'm bored."

Red keeps her gaze fixated on the intricate patterning of the ceiling as she sighs. "What do you want to do?"

She, like Rapunzel, is also bored. They've been lying on her bed for a while now, having run out of things to do.

Both their hostesses were busy at the moment. Anna was somewhere out with Kristoff - probably making out in the stables - while Elsa was preoccupied with her queenly duties.

Not that Red or Rapunzel really minded the lull. Though they were guests here, they didn't need nor expect to be entertained every second of every day.

Rapunzel shrugs unknowingly. "We could go track down the lovebirds and prank 'em or something." Red suggests, moving her hands behind her head. "That's always fun. Kristoff blushes harder than anyone I've ever seen. That alone is worth it."

Rapunzel hums noncommitally; Red tries again.

"Or we could go see what the snowflake's up to." Without turning her head, she glances over at the blonde. "See if she's done kissing up to all those dignitaries and bug her for a change."

Much to her dismay, they haven't really gotten time to spend any time with Elsa, aside from meals. And even then she isn't really there with them - too busy silently stressing over all that still needed to be done to properly engage anyone - leaving it up to Anna to keep the conversation going (not that that was at all difficult for her).

One could tell that Elsa wasn't great with social interaction, even with Anna, which Red found odd. They were sisters who clearly loved each other but there was an obvious disconnect between them. A few years age difference between them and their contrasting personalities maybe accounted for it but there seemed to be a deeper underlying reason behind it.

Neither her or Rapunzel knew their whole story and though they were dying to know more about it, they really didn't want to bring up what would undoubtedly be an uncomfortable conversation. So they just secretly crossed their fingers hoping one day one of the sisters would relay the story on their own.

What? From the tidbits they'd heard around the castle, it sounded like a _pretty_ interesting story.

"C'mon, Red! Let's go."

Before Red knows what's happening, Rapunzel is yanking her off the bed - her second suggestion apparently more appealing to the blonde than the first.

—

When they check her study and find it empty, they go to the only other place Elsa would be at this hour. And sure enough when they sneak in through the servants' entrance, they find the young queen at her throne still in session with whomever today's dignitary was. To Red they all blurred together, all of them donning relatively the same formalwear and weird facial hair.

You couldn't pay her all the money in the realm to deal with those old farts on a day to day basis.

Ducking behind a pillar, Red's still rubbing at the arm that had been unceremoniously yanked by her best friend.

Rapunzel was stronger than she looked (had to be with all that hair) and Red always forgot about it until she received a painful reminder.

Like now.

_Ow_.

"I don't how men can stand to keep mustaches." Rapunzel whispers, keeping herself hidden by the pillar, but peeking out from behind it every now and again.

Red peers out over the top of her head, noting the serious 'stache Baron Whatshisface was sporting.

"I mean, doesn't it tickle? How do they not sneeze every minute of every day? I bet food catches in there _a lot_." Rapunzel grimaces. "I hope for Elsa's sake he washes it often. How awful to have to talk to someone who smells like he's got saurerkraut all up in there."

Red wrinkles her nose just thinking about it. "That's all kinds of nasty."

In that moment Elsa happens to glance in their general direction. Instinctively, they both duck back out of sight before she can see them.

"We really should have thought this through a little more." Rapunzel mumbles, sometime later when it becomes clear that Elsa's little powwow with Baron Von Big 'Stache wasn't wrapping up anytime soon.

"Agreed." Red shifts restlessly, rubbing her stiff neck. She'd already tuned out of the conversation and was back to being bored as hell. "Let's bolt and raid the kitchen. I'm starved."

Rapunzel nods agreeingly and rises from her crouched position. She's just about to tip-toe to the next pillar when the voices occupying the center of the room rise an octave, startling her back behind Red.

Apparently what had started out as a cordial conversation was turning into a heated disagreement.

Or, in short, things were finally about to get interesting.

"-Baron I assure you, you and your people have nothing to fear." Elsa's voice, while calm and even, was laced with the slightest hint of exasperation. "I am not -" She sighs deeply, tiredly. "_Please_ treat me as you would any other monarch and don't let this-"

"As much as I'd like to, your majesty, I simply cannot do that. You are unlike any other king or queen. In your short time on the throne you have already condemned your people to an eternal winter and in the process nearly destroyed Arendelle itself."

"It was an _accident_." Elsa stresses, her voice sounding less composed than she would have liked judging by the way her eyes shut for a brief second. "I was not in control of my powers then. But things are different now, I assure you."

She stares at the Baron with earnest eyes but he disregards them. "Your assurances mean nothing to me. For as long as you posess your dark magic you are a danger to not only to your kingdom and but to all the realms. Tis but a simple fact." he sniffs.

"Red." Beside her, Rapunzel tugs at her sleeve.

Red waves her off, wanting to hear what was being said.

"-please, reconsider." Elsa was saying, almost pleading with the man. "Our kingdoms have a long well regarded history with one another - an alliance that has spanned many generations."

"_Had_ an alliance, your majesty." The Baron corrects. "_Had_."

Red shakes her head in disbelief. _What a dick_. Turning her head, she realizes Rapunzel was still trying to get her attention.

"Look."

Red follows her gaze and sees that the armrests of Elsa's throne, the ones she was gripping for dear life, had a thin layer of ice slowly beginning to spread out across the surface.

Red shares a concerned look with Rapunzel. Uh-oh.

The Baron is none the wiser to the inner struggle plauging the young queen. "Magic is unnatural. Unholy. And my king, his majesty, will not do any further dealings with those he deems _adominable_."

They should probably do something before...

In the same instant that Elsa rips away from her seat, shards of ice materialize from the volatile magic that bursts out from the queen's trembling hands. The ice surrounds her throne like a protective barrier, prompting the Baron to stumble backwards to avoid being struck.

He seems to recover quickly enough though. Even that near fatal attack can't keep him from trying to get even more of a rise out of the young queen. "It is a good thing the honorable King and Queen, your father and mother, died before they could see what horrors their daughter would bestow upon their beloved land."

Red hears the sound of the chandelier trembling before she actually sees it. When she tears her eyes away from the soon-to-be throat less Baron, she sees that the light fixture in question had frozen over and as a result was no longer securally stable.

The Baron casts a smug glance around the room, which was quickly freezing over. He looked pleased with himself, like he had done his job in proving his point. "It looks as those it is only a matter of time before the next eternal winter starts again. How long does that make it?" He turns back to Elsa inquiringly, taunting her. "A whole two weeks since the last one? Well hopefully your people are better prepared this time around."

_Snap_.

That does it for the chandelier.

Red's throwing herself into action before she can properly think twice about it, tackling the Baron out of the way before the glass structure can flatten him into the ground.

When she recovers and pushes herself off the undeserving oaf, she whips around to the find the queen gone.

Rapunzel is suddenly absent too but Red can hear her running down the hallway, calling after the blonde royal.

Behind her, the Baron straightens. "My sincerest gratitudes to you, young madam. I don't know what-"

Red doesn't let him finish. Instead, she punches him as hard as she can muster.

Right in the mustache.

It hurts - _God does it_ \- but it's too gratifying for her to really care.

"That's for being a fucking ass."

And with that she turns around and follows the trail of ice left in Elsa's wake.

—

It doesn't take long for her to catch up to Rapunzel.

"If that Baron is still hanging around after we take care of this I'm gonna knock his teeth in with my frying pan." Blondie tells her as they're hurrying down the corridor.

"Already done." Red breathes, skidding to a halt when they reach the end of the ice path. "Minus the whole frying pan, of course."

She bangs on the door they assume to be Elsa's when they hear a crash come from within.

"Elsa?" Rapunzel calls, pressing her hands against the door. "It's Rapunzel and Red. Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

A disbelieving glance is exchanged between them before Rapunzel continues. "You mind letting us in? We wanna talk to you."

No answer.

Rapunzel bites down on her lip then tries again. "Do you want us to get Anna?"

There's a moment of hesitation. "Yes." Then. "No. Don't get Anna. I don't want her in here. Please just go away."

There's a thud; something shatters.

Red fiddles with the doorknob to no avail. "Elsa, let us in. Please. We can help you."

"Go away. Please. Just go away. I'm fine."

Red pounds her fist against the wood in frustration. She's strong - stronger than most - but even she can't kick down a ten foot door that is potentially frozen over on the other side.

"Now what?"

Rapunzel looks around, then comes up with a way to get in. "All these rooms have balconies right?" Red just nods and allows herself to be led into the bedroom next to Elsa's. "So we'll use this balcony to get in through hers."

"So what we're just going to jump across the two balconies?"

Not that she _can't_ do it, she's just saying.

Rapunzel stops and tilts her head at her, giving her one of_ those _looks. "Really, Red?" She holds up her magically growing hair, her brow raised.

Red smiles broadly, making sense of her plan now. "Goldie you're a genius."

Rapunzel walks out onto the balcony with a smirk on her face. "Tell me something I don't know."

—

Elsa's bedroom is more like an ice chamber. Or at least, _right now_ it was.

Everything was frozen solid. The furniture, the drapes - with every step the young queen took ice spread out across the floor.

"For god's sake, where are they?"

Elsa has yet to notice their presence. Her back is to them; she's too busy rummaging through her drawers.

From what Red can hear, it's gloves she's after.

"Olaf probably borrowed them - or Anna. Knowing her she probably got rid of them." she mutters to herself, frantically rifling through drawer after drawer. "No one ever puts anything back where they are supposed to."

New layers of frost trickle up the walls like ivy, solidifying over the wallpaper. You can't even tell what color the room is supposed to be anymore.

"Damnit!" Elsa slams her dresser drawer shut and whips around, grabbing - pulling- at her hair. She jumps back when sees them standing there. "Wha-How did you..." She shakes her head furiously and scrambles to distance herself from them. "Are you two crazy? Get out of here the both of you!" she orders, bumping into her dresser in the process. "Now before you get hurt."

Rapunzel shakes her head, unafraid but concerned. "You're not gonna hurt us."

Elsa laughs bitterly, almost hysterically. "If I can hurt my own sister I will have no problem hurting you so please leave. I'm asking this for your own good. I can't calm down if I'm too worried about hurting you."

Pushing away from her dresser, she goes to her wardrobe. Her magic all but rips the doors off their hinges.

"Where are those gloves?"

She shakes her head to herself, eyes burning and voice constricting with unshed emotion. "I was so naive in thinking everything would magically be okay after the thaw. That making a stupid ice rink could make up for all the awful things I've done. I've tried to let it go but I can't, not truly. No matter how hard I try..."

Her head drops as she grips the sides of the wardrobe for dear life. She releases a deep wavering breath. "Get it together, Elsa." Red vaguely hears her whisper. "Control it...don't feel..."

"Elsa, take it easy." Rapunzel tries delicately. "Everything's going to be fine."

But Elsa isn't listening. She pushes away from the wardrobe and walks over to her window, her transparent cape flowing behind her. "I should have known better than to think I could handle this." she murmurs, staring past the glass to her kingdom below. "This is what they've all been waiting for."

"By tomorrow morning word will have surely spread through the kingdom that I nearly killed the Baron tonight and if they don't turn on me altogether, they'll resign to living in fear of me."

Rapunzel frowns deeply. "Your people don't fear you, Elsa." she says, coming up behind her. But not too close. "They love you. Everywhere we go we hear nothing but how highly regarded you are. People love you, _powers and all_."

Elsa turns her head away. "It won't last." Her eyes shut briefly, her voice small and weak even to her own ears. "Nothing ever does."

She moves away from the window, slowly turning back around. She may have calmed down some but that didn't mean she looked any more okay. In fact she looked exhausted.

"When's the last time you slept, huh?" Red asks.

Elsa doesn't answer at first. "I wish I knew."

Needing to focus her energy on something, anything, she goes over to her bed and begins cleaning up the mess she made. "All I know is I spend every night trying to block out all the horrible things that I've done and every morning trying to convince myself that I will not repeat those mistakes." Shaking her head, she casts aside her blankets hopelessly. "Not that it does any good." she sniffles, backing herself up against the wall and resting there.

Red could see her body beginning to tremble again. Elsa was fighting herself, trying to suppress the emotion that threatened her will to control her power.

Gone was the living embodiment of composure and confidence people percieved Elsa to be - the facade ironically having melted away while everything else was being consumed in ice.

Instead of a regal queen standing before her, Red saw nothing but an insecure mess of a girl.

She fucking hated it.

"I should have gone back." Elsa shakes her head to herself. She rolls her head along the wall behind her, banging it slightly. "I-I should have stayed at the North Mountain. Why didn't I stay? It's where I belong."

While pushing down one's emotions sounds like the way to go, Red knows from experience that suppressing them only makes things worse.

"Elsa, you belong with family."

Elsa shakes her head, whispering brokenly. "Some people are meant to be alone."

"No one's meant to be alone." Rapunzel disagrees.

"I am!" Elsa yells furiously, turning on them. Her expression crumbles instantaneously.

"Don't you get it?" she cries, almost desperately, shaking her already trembling hands at them. "It's not getting better. It's _never_ going to get better."

A flurry of snow arises and a solid wind begins to swirl around her with her every labored breath.

"Elsa..." Red reaches out to the blonde, but she tenses up before she can make contact.

"Don't!" Elsa flings her arm out to the side and her wardrobe bursts in a frosted blast. She stares at her outstretched hand, then at the splintered pieces of wood.

Devastation.

Fury.

Then despair.

Frustration.

Wave after wave of unbridled emotion sends her spiraling back into that violatile state that threatened to tear her apart from the inside out.

Red walks up to her without warning or hesitation. Elsa startles back when she sees this. "Red, _please_." she begs. "Go. Before I accidentally harm-"

Red's had plenty of people recoil in fear in front of her before. But usually it was _her_ they were afraid of, not of themselves.

"Elsa, hey." Red calmly reaches out and takes her wrists, despite the other girl's protests. "I want you to look at me. Elsa, look at me."

Elsa shakes her head, frantically trying to pull herself free. "Red, get away. I'm not - I'm not in control."

Red keeps her grip firm. Elsa's skin is cool to the touch but not like the ice you'd expect.

"Actually you're a lot more stable than you think. C'mon." Red lowers herself to the floor forcing Elsa to do the same.

"You are not going to hurt me or Rapunzel." she says with real conviction. She isn't just faking it or saying those words to get Elsa to calm down. She means it. "Take a deep breath. Take a deep breath along with me. Alright?"

Elsa struggles but is eventually able to do as she asks.

Without breaking eye-contact, Red addresses Rapunzel who'd joined them on the floor. "Goldie, why don't you show Elsa what you can do with your hair?"

The girl was in desperate need of a distraction.

Red beckons Elsa to watch as Rapunzel starts to sing her song, prompting her waist long hair to expand to the floor.

Much like Red when she first saw it, Elsa couldn't believe what she was seeing. "Your hair...it's getting _longer_."

"Yep." Rapunzel stands to better show it off. "I can grow it as long as I want." Her hair brushes the floor with her every move. "But this is nothing. Give me another minute and I can get it over seventy feet long."

"Uh, maybe another time, Blondie." Red suggests kindly. "It takes forever for her to get it back to its normal length." she explains to Elsa with a brief eye roll.

As Rapunzel settles back down, Elsa's still eyeing her hair. She looks like she wants to touch it, but refrains out of fear that her powers might act up again. "So...you have magical powers too?" Her voice is raspier than usual, laced with both wariness and what sounded like relief.

"Well if you count magically growing hair with healing capabilites, then yeah." Rapunzel holds out her hair for Elsa to feel but she politely declines with a slight shake of her head. "It's way more helpful than any rope. Not to mention much softer."

Rapunzel reaches across and lightly tickles Red's cheek with the tips of her hair. "Red's magical too." she beams.

Red squirms a little, her nose scrunching up. "I wouldn't say magical, B. You make me sound like a damn unicorn or something."

Rapunzel chuckles and shifts her gaze back to Elsa. Behind her hand, she tells her not so secretly, "Red can shift into a wolf any time she likes."

Elsa regards her with curious eyes. "Like a werewolf?"

Red just nods, half expecting that little revelation to send the girl running for the door. Or at the very least trigger a little wide-eyed panic.

But Elsa doesn't so much as flinch. "I thought werewolves only turned on the full moon." she says, frowning a little.

"That's the one time we shift whether we want to or not, but actually we can shift of our own free will on any night. Most of us choose not to though, for obvious reasons."

There's a moment of silence before Red decides to continue, figuring her next words might help to comfort Elsa.

"I've hurt people I cared about too, you know." she brings up quietly, shrugging off her cloak and holding it in her hands. The room's still covered in ice but the cold has never really bothered her. "This cloak - it's magical." Her thumb brushes over the frayed edges. "Supposed to suppress my wolf. Keep me from shifting and whatnot."

"Kind of like my gloves." Elsa says quietly. "They kept my powers contained."

Red nods. "Yeah. But I didn't always have this cloak though. So I had to distance myself from people too, keep to myself as much as I could. That way I didn't endanger anybody." Red stares down at the fabric that for so long has defined who she was. "When my grams gave it to me on one of my birthdays, I relied on it so much that it became like a security blanket. I never took it off."

"I didn't care that people made fun of me for always wearing it. All that mattered was that I couldn't hurt anybody anymore. Even when my emotions were all over the place, even in the dead of night, hell even on a full moon. It was great. For a while there I almost deluded myself into believing I was actually normal." Red shakes her head, a bitter chuckle escaping her.

"It wasn't until my cloak was stolen and I had to go back shifting that I realized I hadn't been doing myself any favors hiding behind it and pretending that I was something that I was not."

Glancing over at Rapunzel, Red wordlessly hands her cloak over to her. She could tell the girl was starting to feel the chill, though she'd never mention in front of Elsa.

"Anyways. Without my cloak I had no way of suppressing the wolf at night so the way I saw it, I had two options: either isolate myself altogether and hope to God that when I had to shift my wolf never hurt anybody _or_ learn to control my wolf and not let it control me." Red raises her shoulders as she smirks to herself. "I chose the second option obviously."

Elsa glances back at the cloak Rapunzel was now wrapped up in. "So...how did you get your cloak back?"

Red follows her gaze for a second. "Eventually tracked down the guy who hijacked it. But it wasn't in the same condition as when I originally had it." she explains. "I sewed up the tears and patched up what I could but its magic hasn't been the same since. I mean it still works but not as well as it used to. If I get too worked up and let myself lose control, I can shift even with it on. But if I keep a level head and focus, I can keep the bitch at bay." She smirks.

Elsa's eyes are elsewhere, but she does nod.

"Anyways, my point is that even though I can still hurt people, I don't let that fear run my life. Yeah I get scared at times but I don't try and push it down and not feel it. I deal with it."

"Elsa," Red compels softly, forcing the blonde to meet her eyes. "Learning control is possible. It's not hopeless. You just have to trust yourself. Believe in yourself."

Elsa turns away with a shake her head. "It's not the same. You're not like me."

Red's brow furrows. "Actually I'm more like you than anyone else. I know what it feels like to be alone. Hell-" She looks over at Rapunzel and nods. "We both do."

"And I know what it's like to have to live a lie, to live with shame because of it." Red continues. "To have to constantly keep yourself in check. Living in fear of yourself - to have so much self-hatred that it threatens to destroy you - trust me when I say I've been there and done that."

Rapunzel scoots closer to Elsa, nodding slightly. "Isolating yourself isn't going to make things better, even if you're doing it for the right reasons."

Elsa glances down at her hands, then slowly begins shaking her head. She wants to believe the blonde's words but is ultimately unable to. It just isn't enough. "I deserve to be alone." Her voice is heavy with what Red thinks is staved-off tears.

"No you don't." Rapunzel insists firmly, clasping the girl's forearm. "No one does."

Elsa lifts her head and stares dejectedly at the wardrobe she'd destroyed. So much damage, and all she did was outstretch her hand. "I'm a danger to my people. And to Anna."

"You're not dangerous, Elsa. You're special, just like we are. And look you've already calmed down, that's a start."

Elsa's eyes fit across her bedroom. The blizzard had died down, yes, but the room was no less cold, no less frozen.

"You saw what happened with the Baron." she murmurs, glancing away from her hurricane of a room. "He was clearly trying to provoke me and I let him get the better of me. I'm not even close to done with meeting with dignitaries. Next time someone attacks me like that who knows what will happen."

"There won't be a next time." Rapunzel assures, reaching out and touching her shoulder. She's a little surprised that Elsa doesn't squirm away or tense up but also thankful. "We're here for you, Elsa."

The young queen doesn't understand it. "Why?"

"Because you're my family." Rapunzel replies, smiling that little half-smile that Red's come to find both soothing and encouraging. "And Red's my family which makes all us family in a way. And family takes care of each other."

Elsa's smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. A sign of hesitance.

"You don't trust us." Red's the one that states it aloud.

Elsa worries her lip, thinking she'd offended them. "In my defense I haven't known you two that long. And it wouldn't be the first time someone's come to Arendelle and lied about their intentions. I just..."

"It's okay." Rapunzel nods her head, smiling at her gently. "You'll come around soon enough."

Elsa can't help but smile a little at her confidence. "You sound so sure."

"Because I am." Rapunzel laughs. "I mean, _come on_. No one can resist these dimples." She points to her smiling cheeks. "Or those." She points to Red who flashes her own dimpled smile.

"We're so adorable, it hurts." Red agrees.

Elsa chuckles mildly in her lap, sniffling slightly.

"Well would you look at that, Red." Rapunzel gets up in Elsa's personal space, smirking knowingly. "I was right. The three of us _are_ meant to be besties. Look at those dimples." She lightly pokes the young queen's cheek. "She is one of us."

The blonde shies away from her touch, smiling softly, bashfully.

Red feels a bit of a flutter in her heart at the sight and broadens her grin. "So you _can_ smile." she teases, now resting back on her hands.

Embarrassed, Elsa wordlessly pulls her legs up to her chest and hides that cute little quirked mouth behind her knees.

It's so utterly adorable that Red can't quite suppress the laugh that bubbles out of her.

Once the moment passes, Rapunzel speaks up again. "Elsa, can I ask you a question?"

Elsa lifts her chin a little and rests it against her knee, her smile settling. She nods at her fellow blonde. "Go ahead."

Rapunzel looks over at her with slightly narrowed, inquisitive eyes. "Was Kristoff _really_ raised by trolls or is he just a little..."

The blonde raises her brow as she makes a circular motion around her head. "As Red would say, _loco en la cabeza?_"

Her spanish delivery is slow and so much like a white girl that while Red throws her head back and bursts out laughing, Elsa snorts an uncharacteristic laugh.

The three of them are completely oblivious to the ice that is slowly beginning to recede from the room.

—

Red exhales impatiently and shifts her arms to rest across her chest. Her back is resting against the wooden frame of the door.

"Seriously, how long does it take that girl to get dressed? Doesn't she like _make_ her own clothes?" She wiggles her fingers magically.

Rapunzel just rolls her eyes, smiling. She's standing in front of the wall opposite Red, rocking back and forth on her heels in an anticipatory manner. Pascal sits on her shoulder.

They both perk up when the sound of footsteps can be heard from within the room, coming closer. The door opens a fraction of a second later and Rapunzel whips around to stand right in front of the entryway, positively ecstatic.

Red can't help but snort a laugh when Elsa startles back, not expecting Rapunzel to be standing _right_ there.

"I thought I heard voices." the young queen says once she recovers. She looks to them both curiously. There's an awkward pause while she waits for one of them to explain themselves. When they don't, she asks the question herself. "...what are you two doing here?"

"Kidnapping you." Rapunzel enthuses, her smiling eyes big and bright -_and quite possibly completely unnerving to Elsa_, Red thinks with a small smile.

"Actually we're not _really_ kidnapping you." Rapunzel amends apologetically, hooking her arm around Elsa's. "Escorting - _borrowing_ \- you really..."

Red pushes away from the wall and comes around to the blonde's other side. "No we're pretty much kidnapping you."

"We are what you'd call playing _hooky_ today." Rapunzel continues, interjecting before Elsa could properly speak. "Now before you say that you can't or that you're too busy, we checked with your peeps and they say you don't have any meetings with any fancy dignitaries scheduled today."

"T-that doesn't mean I don't have work to do." Elsa protests with a shake of her head. "I have to make sure the repairs on the castle are going accordingly, as well as the repairs on the ships that were damaged by the frost, I still have to figure out what we're going to do about all the crops lost during the freeze, and I have a stack of paperwork sitting on my desk that needs to be read over and signed before-"

"_For Christ's sake_." Red rolls her eyes dramatically. "Putting it off until tomorrow won't kill you. So relax."

Beside her, Rapunzel nods. "Yeah, it's not like we're taking you somewhere far away. We're just gonna go down to the village..."

"What?" Elsa does a doubletake between them, her eyes widening in horror. If she wasn't already against their plans, she was now. "No, no, no..."

"Why not?"

Elsa tugs her arms free from their hold. She turns around and stares at them pointedly. "Because," she near whispers. "There are _people_ there."

"No duh." Red laughs. Even though the girl was clearly terrified, she can't stop from finding her so utterly adorable right now.

Wait.

What?

She didn't just think that.

"C'mon." Rapunzel encourages, placing a guiding hand on her shoulder. "You've never been down the village before."

Elsa shakes her head, refusing to go regardless of that fact. She steps away from Rapunzel's touch. "I'll hurt someone."

Red rolls her eyes and sighs. "No you won't."

"You don't know that."

"Neither do you." she counters sharply, getting annoyed. "Look, how the hell do you expect things to get better - to _change_ \- if you aren't willing to do anything about it? We're trying to help you here. We're not trying to make your life miserable."

"Yeah, we won't let anything bad happen." Rapunzel says, giving her a soft reassuring smile.

"You can't promise that."

"Elsa," Rapunzel steps closer to her. "When I promise something, I never _ever_ break that promise." Normally in this kind of situation she'd take the person's hand to emphasize that truth, but with Elsa anxious enough as it is, she opts to keep her hands to herself. "And I promise you that you are going to be just fine. Nothing bad is going to happen to you or to anyone else."

Elsa seems to consider this and for a moment almost looks convinced...until that inevitable self-doubt slithers back in. "But what if-"

Red can't take any more of this. "Elsa, I say this with love but - _shut up_. Seriously. We're going. End of story."

Elsa's gaze hardens at her tone. Her back straightens. She looks a lot more like a queen now and less like an insecure little girl.

Red would be lying if she said she wasn't a _teensy_ bit intimidated (but no one needs to know that).

"If you think I'm just going to allow you to boss me around-"

"I'll buy you chocolate."

Red smirks triumphantly when Elsa stops short. "Well then...that's just..." The blonde shifts and regards her with disinterest, trying to play it cool. "A kind offer but I will not ignore my good judgment and buy into your bribes." She tells her with an upturned chin.

Red isn't buying it. Neither is Rapunzel.

"_Yes you will_." they both say to her, after exchanging knowing glances with each other.

Without another word they link arms with Elsa, taking her captive once more, and continue on their way.

—

"I can't do this."

Red rolls her eyes, exasperated. _God help her_.

"Yes you can." Rapunzel encourages kindly.

Red merely shakes her head and stares, because really this whole situation is bringing back some serious flashbacks to when Rapunzel pulled this _same_ crap on her. Back when they first met and Rapunzel forced her into taking her to see those damn floating lanterns. Blondie had spent the entire first half of their journey alternating between relishing in her freedom and wallowing in crushing guilt for betraying her 'mother'.

Much like Elsa was doing now. This going back and forth - being calm one moment, then freaking out the next.

She wants to punch whichever ancestor it was who passed down this nutsy-cuckoo trait to them in the face _so hard _right now.

"Elsa if you keep this up you're going in the goddamn lake." she warns, _so_ over this already.

"_Fjord_." Rapunzel quietly corrects.

"Gesundheit."

Elsa shakes her head and continues to pace along the bridge just outside of the village.

"They're going recognize me and then they're going to want to approach me, and ask questions and want answers..." Elsa wringes her hands nervously, almost like she's trying to take them off. "Everyone will stare at me."

"Well you are the _queen_." Red sighs, trying not to let her temper get the better of her. "Of course they're gonna stare."

"Well if you don't want people to stare at you, then maybe you should go in a disguise." Rapunzel suggests simply enough. "That way people won't recognize you and will leave you alone."

"How?"

Red's gaze fits down Elsa's body and back up again. She's so unintentionally gorgeous it hurts. Or maybe that's the empty stomach she's feeling.

Either way Elsa looks every bit the part of the royal she doesn't want people to notice.

"First we should probably find you a dress that's a little less...conspicuous."

"Less ice queen-y and more village casual." Rapunzel agrees. "And you should let your hair down. Literally."

"I can't wear my hair down in public." Elsa says, aghast. "It's improper."

Red scoffs outright. "Says who? You're the fucking _queen_. You can do whatever the hell you want."

Elsa doesn't look convinced.

"I doubt anyone will recognize you with your hair down." Rapunzel offers, making Elsa purse her lips hesitantly.

After a few seconds of silent deliberation, Elsa bites. "Okay, fine." Before she can second guess herself, she takes her hair down and shakes it out of its braid.

And here Red thought she couldn't get any more beautiful. Seriously. How is that even possible?

"Well?" Elsa shifts self-consciously, unable to gauge their reactions and not liking their silence.

"You look fine." Rapunzel nods, smiling.

"_Fine_ is a bit of an understatemement." Red murmurs, eyes trained on the beautiful blonde.

Crap. Did she say that outloud?

Evidently so by the way Rapunzel looks at her, knowing smile and all. Blondie's _so_ gonna tease her about this later.

She scowls at the thought.

"Anyways," Rapunzel picks her satchel off the ground and shoulders it. "I'll go into the village and find a dress for you, Elsa."

"That's really not necessary...I have plenty of dresses back in-"

Red shakes her head. "We are _not_ going back to the castle." she interjects, her arms firmly crossed. "No way."

It took them _this_ long just to get Elsa out here. No way she's doing through that again.

"Just find a dress shop and pick out the first thing you see in her size." she instructs Rapunzel, who nods dutifully.

"I'll be back before you can _snuggly duckling_."

Red playfully rolls her eyes at her. "Okay." she smiles. "Just try not to get too distracted."

Rapunzel scoffs indignantly and begins back pedaling away from them. "Since when do I get distracted? _Never_, that's when."

In the same instant Rapunzel whips around to leave, Red throws out her hand in warning. "Rapunzel watch out for the-"

Her words fall flat when Rapunzel walks right into the horse of one of the palace guards. "...horse."

"Whoops." Rapunzel spins out of its way. "Sorry." she giggles, smiling apologetically.

Both Elsa and Red shake their heads.

"It astounds me just how alike her and Anna are." Elsa comments, staring after the girl.

"Yeah, well..." Red turns back around and shrugs. "I guess that's what isolation does to ya."

Keeping that thought in mind as she glances at Elsa, then at the bridge's railing, then back at her again, Red walks up to the young queen and gently guides her away from the edge.

Elsa stares at her questioningly.

"What? You three bozos are related. I turn my back for a second and you might fall off the damn bridge."

Elsa narrows her eyes, then punches Red's arm. Hard.

"Damn bitch." she swears. She skirts away, out of reach, and tenderly rubs her arm. "Who knew you could hit. Ow."

Elsa releases a small huff, pushing back a stray hair back out of her face. "You are by far the most ill-mannered person I've ever met."

Red scowls. "What? Bitch is a term of endearment for me."

"A bitch is a female dog. Which technically is what _you_ are." Elsa's lips give way to a little smirk.

Red's scowl morphs into a full on glare. "I'm a fucking wolf." she growls, playfully pushing the blonde aside. "There's a difference."

"FREEZE!"

Red barely has time to turn her head before she finds herself suddenly surrounded by several of Arendelle's guards, their weapons all pointing right at her.

Woah, woah, woah...what the hell?

Apparently they'd seen the whole thing. Note to self: don't push queens around - even jokingly - in public.

While staring her down, one of the guards inquires to Elsa - who he'd pushed behind him - over his shoulder. "Is this miscreant bothering you, your Majesty?"

_Miscr-what?_

Red scowls deeply. "Get that thing out of my face." She pushes one of the guard's sword away from her nose.

Then to herself, mutters, "Huh. Never thought I'd ever have to say those words again."

Anyways.

The guards are still waiting on orders from Elsa. "Your Majesty?" one questions, turning around.

Red peers over his shoulder to find Elsa doing her very best to suppress her less-than-queenly giggles behind her hand. As a result a small snort escapes, making her laugh even harder.

It's the first time she's ever heard Elsa laugh. Like really laugh. And Red's pretty sure she's never heard a greater sound in her life. Or seen a greater sight, for that matter.

Cause seriously.

So. Freaking. Charming.

—

_Hot damn._

Red's eyes fit to the sky, then close in ecsatsy as she chews through her mouthful, savoring every second of it.

When she swallows, her eyes flutter open. She's just about to devour the rest of her pastry whole when she notices Elsa staring at her.

Red pulls back and self-consciously wipes the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. "What? I like bread, alright?"

"That much is evident." Elsa concurs, picking up and offering a napkin to her.

Eyes rolling, Red grudgingly plucks the item from her grasp. "Thanks."

Elsa might have gotten a kick out of her near arrest but that moment had long past and the young queen was back to being her usual reserved self. And sure while that side of her was the one Red was more accustomed to, that didn't mean it was the one she favored.

As they're sitting here outside the bakery, Red can't help but notice that even when she's 'dressed down' and incognitio, Elsa still manages to look ethereal. And it's just not right. Not right that someone can be so goddamn beautiful on the outside yet be so heartbreakingly troubled on the inside.

Granted right now there was a newfound serenity to her that hadn't been there before. Red accredited that to Elsa being able to see in person how happy her people were, how content they were with their lives.

But even then that wasn't enough to keep her lingering insecurites at bay. The internal struggle was still there. To anyone else it would not look as though so, but Red knew better. She could could see the apprehension, feel the girl's unease rolling off her in waves.

Everytime someone did a double take at her when they passed by, even though Elsa would cover it up with a polite trained smile, Red could sense the girl's silent panic then subsequent relief when they kept walking.

To say the least Elsa was good at belying her true feelings...just not good enough to fool Red.

Staring at the girl in question, Red now sees a muted sadness, a longing, reflected in Elsa's eyes. Curiously, Red glances over her shoulder to see what it was she was watching.

Two little girls, sisters presumably, playing and giggling not so quietly while their mother shopped for groceries. Both were undeniably adorable and having an absolute ball together.

When Red turns back around Elsa's gaze is flickering away, trying to focus on something - _anything_ \- that will distact herself from the scene. But it's too late. The sight had already struck a chord with her. One she'd rather not revisit.

Red can see the frost creeping out from under her fingertips, coating the sides of the cup she was currently holding.

"Elsa. Hey." She gently coaxes the girl from her reverie. "Take it easy."

Elsa blinks. Then when it registers, her eyes shut briefly. With a deep breath she releases the cup and drops her hands to her lap.

"You're going to be fine." Red continues as further assurance.

"You hardly know me and yet you have so much faith in me." Elsa murmurs, lifting her gaze to stare at her questioningly. "Why is that?"

"Because you're a lot stronger than you think you are." Red says easily, shrugging slightly. "Anyone with eyes can see that. Me, your sister, Rapunzel...we all see it. You will too, eventually. But in the meantime..."

She lightly kicks Elsa under the table making her jump a little. "Knock it off." Elsa thinks she can't see what she's doing underneath the table but she totally can. "Keep wringing your hands like that and you're gonna eventually freeze off a finger."

Elsa shakes her head at herself and clasps the edge of the table. "I can't help it."

She can tell Elsa hates it just as much as she does. The blonde takes a deep breath. "I just...I _shouldn't_ be here."

She glances around, eyeing in particular the young children running about. Across the way Rapunzel was getting her hair braided by a group of little girls.

"There are a lot of people...if something were to happen..."

Red would totally chuck the rest of her pastry at Elsa's annoyingly pretty face if she didn't care about wasting food.

"Seriously?" Red almost rolls her eyes. "Quit second-guessing yourself. You have a hell of a lot more control than you give yourself credit for. You're fine."

Wordlessly, Elsa tips her mug forward to show her the inside of it. Her hot chocolate was now, well...frozen solid.

Red waves it off. "You're doing great." she says regardless. "So relax already, would you? Nothing's gonna happen."

Elsa worries her bottom lip unsurely. "You should have at least let me bring my gloves."

"Sorry princess, but you're in the middle of the weaning process." Red shrugs nonapologetically. "Besides it's the middle of summer. Too fucking hot for that."

"Oh so I can't have my gloves but you can have your cloak?" Elsa inquires sharply, gesturing to the red garb draped over the back of her chair. "I thought you didn't even need it."

"_I don't_." Red glowers. "But I'm not leaving it in the castle." she scoffs. "No offense but I don't trust your staff or your sister. They're all a bit sketchy. Hell for all I know they're be a bunch of kleptos."

"That's ridiculous."

"Ridiculously accurate." She corrects with a sly grin. She eyes the blonde's half-eaten chocolate croissant and raises her brow pointedly. "Are you going to finish that thing?"

"Yes." Elsa frowns, protectively pulling it closer to her.

Red shrugs uncaringly. "Doesn't look that good anyways." she sniffs, picking up the rest of her own pastry.

She just about has it up to her lips when out of thin air it's snatched out of her hand.

"What the-"

"_Sharing is caring_, Red." Rapunzel grins, coming around and plopping herself down at their table. Shoving the sweet bread in her mouth, she asks through full lips, "So what are we talking about?", though it sounds more like, "whawelkingbout?"

Elsa slowly rises from her seat. "I think it's time for me to return to the castle." As she stands she smoothes down her skirt. "This has been...fun."

_Uncomfortable_ would have been a more accurate description. "But I still have much work to get done, duties that cannot be detained any longer..."

"Slow your roll, snowflake." Rapunzel stands to stop her. "You're not getting out of this that easily."

Elsa's eyes are pleading. "Rapunzel, _please_."

Rapunzel skips around the table and sidles up beside her cousin. "Obviously this is a little much for you. Too much." She links her arm with Elsa's, then suggests. "So why don't we go somewhere where _you're_ comfortable?"

"Somewhere that isn't the castle." Red throws in.

Rapunzel nods. "Or on the castle grounds."

Seconds pass before Elsa finally responds.

"Well," she starts hesitantly, unsure of whether she should even divulge what she's about to. "I've only ever _really_ felt comfortable in one place..."

—

You'd think a werewolf who has a best friend with magical growing hair and a kinda, sort of, friendship with a literal ice queen would be okay with just about anything that say, any normal person would be weird about.

And she is (good with weird, that is).

Most of the time.

_Almost always_, really.

...

Now is just not one of those times.

But, hey, it's not her fault her knee jerk reaction to seeing a magical talking blob of snow is to kick his weird little head off.

It's just not, alright?

"What the hell!?" Red rears back. Then, with a quick sideglance, yanks Rapunzel in front of her. She peers out from behind her shoulder, eyeing the headless body flailing around in front of them. "What is that thing?"

Elsa stares at her in disbelief. "A snowman. What else would he be?"

Once she retrieves Olaf's head for him, she sets it back in place.

Red pulls a face as the little guy mentions something about girls doing that to him a lot. "That is one seriously effed up looking-"

Rapunzel jabs her ribs. Hard. Then turns around to stare at Red quizzically. "What do you think she meant when she asked us if we wanted to meet her snowman?"

"A weird innuendo? _I don't know_."

"What's an innuendo?" Olaf wonders, his brow furrowed up at her.

It's the first time he's made eye contact with her since that whole 'I'm Olaf and I like warm hugs' intro.

"What about Anna?" Rapunzel inquires, still addressing her. "Our first night here she told us all about him."

Red snorts, nearly rolling her eyes.

"Like I follow every little thing she says. _C'mon_." She glances at Elsa semi - but not really - apologetically. "No offense but your little sister rambles like no one I've ever met. She says like twenty different things in one breath. Every time she opens her mouth I get a headache. For my own health I have to tune her out."

Elsa smoothes down her dress before addressing her in an even tone. "While I am well aware of Anna's excessive chattering, I'd appreciate it if you didn't insult my sister in front of me."

The flash of warning in those darkened hazel eyes was not to be missed.

It was both incredibly terrifying and inexplicably alluring.

"Technically though I wasn't insulting her." Red points out, her lips drawn up in a smirk.

"If you need to start your statement with _no offense_ then the words that follow are almost always meant to be insulting."

Red rolls her eyes. When they finish their rotation, her gaze unwittingly lands on Olaf who was still staring at her.

She's reacting before she can think twice about it. "Quit staring at me you little-"

"Red, I will throw you out if you continue to insult my loved ones." Elsa advises in that calmly regal tone of hers.

Even when she's dressed in a simple blue dress, with her hair down and only a section of it pulled back and braided (and seriously what these people have with braids Red will never understand), Elsa looks just as intimidating as she does in her formal dresses.

"Aw!" Olaf claps his little hands together excitely, wearing a silly grin as he goes in to hug his creator. "Elsa called me her _loved one_."

As the snowman wraps his stick arms around her leg, Elsa's expression softens. She leans down to better accomodate his gentle hug.

When the embrace ends and Elsa straightens, she turns to Red expectantly. She gestures to Olaf. "Now apologize to him."

Red heaves a sigh, resisting the urge to roll her eyes again. She casts a glance at the snowman whose goofy smile was admittedly hard to deny. "Sorry, Oleg."

"_Olaf_."

"Whatever."

Elsa shakes her head, exasperated but satisfied enough, before reverting her attention. "Olaf, why don't you go check up on Marshmallow for me?"

The snowman looks confused. "But I was just with him..."

He'd been visiting Marshmallow, Elsa's _other_ snowman and Olaf's so-called _brother from the same mother_, when the three of them reached her ice palace here on the North Mountain.

"Please, Olaf. Keep him company for me?" Elsa politely requests. "While I show the girls the rest of the palace?"

Olaf looks skeptical about leaving his creator alone. "But are you sure you'll be okay?" he whispers to her through the side of his mouth, staring over at Red and Rapunzel warily.

He raises his little stick hand to cover his next words. "Those two look a little nuts."

Elsa smiles faintly, lightly shaking her head. "Run along Olaf." she beckons. "Please and thank you."

Olaf nods compliantly. As he totters from the room, he waves over his shoulder at her. "Bye mom!"

Elsa's eyes shut briefly, ducking her head as she clasps her hand over one cheek, looking very much like an embarrassed parent.

"I've asked him to stop calling me that."

Rapunzel, who was back to taking in the inside of the palace, frowns. "Why?" She tears her gaze away from the frozen ice fountain. "You technically are his mother, having giving him life after all." She smiles fondly. "I think it's sweet."

"I think it's weird." Red murmurs, earning a scowl from her best friend.

Elsa clears her throat uncomfortably. "Anyways." She lifts her gaze and with some hesitance, asks, "So should we continue with our tour?"

—

"This is the best day EVER!"

Red grins up at Rapunzel who was hanging upside down from the ceiling like some kind of spider monkey. She'd taken her hair out of its braid and had it out to its full length now, using it to swing about Elsa's ice palace much like she used to do in her tower.

While Red was sitting on the floor, leaning back on her hands, and enjoying the sight, Elsa on the other hand was standing and looking very concerned for her safety.

"Does she _always_ do that?"

"This place is so cool." Rapunzel thrills, swinging back and forth. She giggles at her own pun. "Literally!"

Red playfully rolls her eyes at the blonde. "Dork."

While her gaze is fixated upward Red takes another moment to admire the grand chandelier above their heads. They occupied the second floor now, the 'heart' of the palace as Elsa called it.

"Blondie's right. This place is pretty fucking spectacular."

Her gaze drops enough to see the modest blush creep onto Elsa's cheeks.

The young queen's sheepish smile fades when she looks back up at Rapunzel. Unconsciously she starts to wring her hands again.

Seeing this, Red tilts her head back to the other blonde above. "Hey Blondie, take a breather and come back to Earth, would ya? You're making the snowflake uneasy."

She just smirks when Elsa's gaze snaps toward her, probably because of the nickname.

Rapunzel complies easily enough and jumps down, then starts dancing around the room just for the hell of it.

But that does little to ease Elsa's discomfort, as evident by her still wringing hands. Although as soon as she catches herself, she promptly stops.

"Are you sure this is okay?" She turns to Red first, then glances between her and Rapunzel anxiously. "I mean aren't you two cold here?"

Rapunzel shakes her head. "I'm good." she says, moving across the floor to music apparently no one else can hear.

She looked absolutely ridiculous. Though not because of the dancing. Because of what she was wearing.

Before they came up the mountain, Rapunzel had basically borrowed one item from every one of her friends. On top of the winter coat she'd borrowed from Anna, Rapunzel was also wearing Red's cloak, and then for accessories wore Elsa's gloves (which they'd eventually found under her bed) and Kristoff's dorky little snow cap.

In short, nothing she was wearing matched. Like at all.

Red smiles at that fact. "I'm fine." she says in response to Elsa's question.

"How can you be?" Elsa stares in disbelief as Red leans back further, then lies down completely on the floor. "You're not wearing anything to keep you warm. Not even a scarf."

Red smirks up at the ceiling and sighs before propping herself back up. "Wanna know why? Come here." She beckons to Elsa who hesitantly moves closer.

Red rolls her eyes and sits upright.

She grabs the blonde's unsuspecting hand and yanks her down until she was sitting right in front of her. "Here's why."

She places Elsa's hand over her forehead.

The other girl's eyes widen. "You're hot."

"Why yes I am." Red grins, waggling one eyebrow.

Red lowers their hands when Elsa blushes but keeps her hand over hers. She doesn't do it purposefully, in fact it barely registers.

Elsa shakes her head. "No I mean your body temperature is usually high." she clarifies, staring at her with concern. "I've never realized it before. Are you sure you're not coming down with something?"

"No, it's just a wolf thing." Red assures, trying not to get too distracted by the blonde's devastatingly pretty eyes. On land Elsa's eyes are a clear hazel green, but up here in her ice palace domain they've transformed into a cool greenish blue hue.

"We run hot all the time." she hears herself continue, some part of her wanting to cover up her blatant staring.

Elsa nods, accepting the explanation. After a minute her gaze shifts to their hands. Her eyes widen.

Elsa takes back her hand like she'd just been shocked. "Sorry." she quickly apologizes, scooting away from Red. "I'm like ice, I know." She clasps her hands self-consciously. "There's nothing I can do about it. I've tried."

Red wants to retake her hand, just to assure her it was fine, but she has the feeling it might have the opposite effect on the blonde. "Speaking as someone who always feels like she's overheating, I can honestly say it doesn't bother me." Red says instead. "It feels nice actually." She's not afraid to admit it. "You're cool but like _good_ cool, you know? Like refreshing."

Elsa smiles softly for a moment, but allows it to fade as she draws her legs underneath her. "Anna shivers when I hug her for too long." she reveals with a small sad sigh. "But I know she can't help it. It's not her fault her sister's practically made of ice."

Rapunzel slides over to them, then ungracefully plops herself down next to Red. "Well it's a good thing Red's warmer than a marshmallow on an open flame." She nudges her friend's shoulder teasingly. "Also gooier."

Red shifts away, embarrassed. "_Rapunzel_." she groans.

Another small smile graces Elsa's features as she meets Red's gaze. "And here I thought you couldn't blush."

There's a twinkle to those smiling eyes that makes Red want to grin stupidly. But fortunately she's able to cover it up with a glower before any kind of dorky smile peaks through.

"I can't." Red maintains, her eyes narrowed. "This is just a rash that flares up every time I'm uncomfortable."

Beside her Rapunzel snorts.

"I've never brought anyone up here before." Elsa confesses on impulse when there's a momentary silence.

She looks up but doesn't quite meet their eyes. "I mean my sister's been here but she wasn't exactly invited." She grimaces at whatever memory that incident triggers. "I had to throw her and Kristoff out."

"So what exactly happened with you two? You and Anna." Red questions, leaning back on her hands again. "We want details."

Elsa's mouth opens just a tiny bit in suprise. "I-"

Rapunzel not so discreetly nudges her side.

"What?" Red scowls back at her, annoyed. "It's true. Besides how else are we gonna help her get past all her issues if we don't know the whole story, huh?"

Her gaze returns to Elsa expectantly. "So?"

"Well I..." Elsa hesitates for the longest time. She wants to do this - Red can see it in her eyes - she just needs a little encouragement.

So Red extends her leg and lightly nudges the blonde's foot with her own, prompting Elsa to meet her gaze.

"Remember you're talking to a girl who turns into a wolf and a girl who has magically growing hair." she says with a gentle, reassuring smile.

"We won't judge."

"Promise." Rapunzel reaffirms.

"Okay."

Elsa starts again and this time her words don't falter. She tells them everything, starting with her childhood and detailing all the moments, even the painful ones, that built up to now.

By the end of it they're all lying flat on their backs, side by side (by side), staring silently up at the grand ice chandelier directly above them.

Red remembers isolation well. Remembers that pang of longing she got every time she watched the other village kids play with each other while she was stuck by herself doing chores. The simmering resentment that built toward her grandmother because of it.

Those early years, her pre-cloak years as she liked to call them, they were lonely but it wasn't the same kind of lonely Elsa had been. She didn't lock herself up in her room for ten years and deny herself human contact. She would have sooner drowned herself in the river before ever inflicting that kind of punishment on herself.

But she understood why Elsa subjected herself to that kind of existence. Maybe if she herself had a sibling like Elsa did Anna, she would think twice about isolating herself that way, but...

Red turns away from those thoughts. She doesn't even want to think about what it'd be like to put herself in either one of their shoes.

After all they both had it pretty rough growing up. Red doesn't know which would be worse: being shut out by your sister/best friend and for years believing it'd been because of something you'd done like Anna or having to push people away and live an isolated existence filled with so much fear and guilt like Elsa.

Rapunzel's the first to break the silence.

Turning her head, she glances at Elsa out of the corner of her eye. "Feel better?"

Red looks over in time to see Elsa duck her head in a nod. "Yeah." Sniffling slightly, she wipes at her misty eyes with one hand. "A little."

There's another moment's pause before Red sees a bare hint of a smile poke through the blonde's features. "Although now I feel as though the scales are a little unbalanced..." she brings up in attempt to lighten the mood (and to get away from talking more about herself).

"Unbalanced?" Rapunzel's brow furrows, not quite understanding. "What do you mean?"

"Considering you two just got my entire life story just now, I feel like it's only fair that you at least tell me something I don't already know about you." Elsa explains.

"Okay." Rapunzel nods, agreeing with that logic. She waits a good long second before answering.

"Well...kissing my armpits is a really big turn-on for me."

Red splutters out a laugh at that brillant deadpan delievery.

"What? You said tell you something you didn't know."

"Even I didn't know that." Red has to admit.

"Just - how did you come to figure that out exactly?" Elsa tentatively questions. A regretful hand comes up the second she hears her words aloud. "Nevermind." she decides against, shaking her head. "I'd rather not know."

Elsa pushes herself upright and glances back at her. "What about you, Red?"

Red would so answer if that one simple look hadn't suddenly rendered her completely incapable of processing human speech.

"I can think of something Red hasn't mentioned." Rapunzel brings up slyly, flashing Red a knowing smirk as she sits up.

For once Red has no idea what she's talking about. "What?" she frowns, also sitting upright. Not even a second passes before it dawns on her.

"Oh." She can feel a deep grimace pull down her mouth. "_That_."

Rapunzel grins. "Yes, _that_." She indicates to Elsa. "Tell her."

Red stares at her like she's lost her mind. Which she has. "No way."

Elsa looks between them both very confused. "Tell me what?"

"Just ask her what her _real_ name is."

Red's eyes are glaring daggers when Elsa rounds on her. "You told me it _was_ Red!" she exclaims quite indignantly.

"It is!" she maintains, still scowling furiously at Rapunzel.

"Is not!" Rapunzel laughs scoffingly. Then threatens lightheartedly, "Tell her Red or _I_ will."

Red huffs, growing slightly under her breath, though acquiescing to her best friend's request. "Okay fine."

She lowers her voice to one that's barely discernible. "It's Ruby."

Elsa leans forward. "Come again?"

She repeats the cursed name through gritted teeth. "Ruby. My fucking name is _Ruby_."

Elsa tilts her head, regarding her thoughtfully. "If you don't mind my saying..." The amused smile that spreads across her cheeks is almost worth the embarrassment, Red thinks. "But you don't look like a Ruby."

Red nods appreciatively. "_Exactly_, thank you!" She rolls her eyes, shaking her head. "I don't know what my parents were thinkng. It's like the worst name ever."

Elsa's eyes soften. "Even worse than _Elsa_?" she smiles, reminding Red of how she had basically insulted her name the first time they ever met.

"Yeah." A slight curve finds its way across her lips. "But not by much." she adds, making Elsa laugh shortly.

Her brow drops when the amusement subsides though. "But seriously."

She points her finger sternly, eyeing them both even though she'd technically already sworn Rapunzel to secrecy.

"That name never leaves this room, alright? Cause if it does, I will fucking _end_ you."

Rapunzel shakes her head at her, then leans into Elsa to clarify. "What she really means is she'll get all pouty and grumbly and mumble in Spanish. She may be a wolf but her personality is actually more grumpy puppy than Big Bad." she informs, sharing a smirk with Elsa.

Red's expression flatens. "_Thanks_, Blondie. Thanks a lot."

Rapunzel's smile is as innocent as her shrug. "Just keepin' it real, Red."

—

It's nearing sunset when they return to the castle.

Red had wished they'd stayed up in the North Mountain long enough to see it from those heights - it probably would have been one hell of a view - but Elsa had wanted to get back before Anna started to worry.

Or so she said. Red thinks she just wanted to make sure her kingdom hadn't fallen to ruin while she was out. And with Anna left in charge, the chances of that happening are _pretty_ high.

"So, how long do you think you two will stay in Arendelle?"

They're walking down one of the corridors when Elsa decides to speak up. It did not go unnoticed by either Red or Rapunzel how much quieter she'd gotten since leaving her ice palace, but they figured that was her slipping back into 'queen mode'. Before they'd reached the castle gates, she'd conjured up a more befitting dress and returned her hair to its usual updo.

"For as long as you'll have us." Rapunzel answers, smiling happily at her.

"Just keep that little Olaf dude...child...away from me." Red feels the need to add.

"What do you have against him?" Elsa wonders, bemused by her strong dislike of him.

Red wrinkles her nose, automatically pulling a face. "He's weird." She glances back at Elsa, her brow raised. "You couldn't have made a more normal looking snowman?"

"I was seven when I created him." she defends indignantly. "What do you expect?"

"That's no excuse." she scoffs, grinning at Elsa's growing frown. "You roll three balls of snow together and stack them on top of each other. How hard is that?" she teases.

Rapunzel intervenes before Elsa can respond. "The reason she doesn't like Olaf is the same reason she doesn't like Pascal or Maximus - because she doesn't like competition."

Elsa's brow furrows. "Competition for what?"

"Our affections." Rapunzel answers smugly.

Red's eyes widen. Her cheeks flare up from absolute mortification. "That's - I - _do not_!"

Rapunzel nods, confirming it so. "She's highly territorial when it comes to her blondes." she continues, grinning broadly.

Elsa turns and raises her brow at her. "Oh?"

Red's eyes fit the ceiling. Lord help her.

Strike her down.

_Anything_.

If people could actually die of embarrassment she would have keeled over ten paces ago.

"Yeah. It got to the point where she even tried to eat Pascal once."

"It was a _joke_! I wasn't really gonna do it!"

Rapunzel just shakes her head and keeps walking. "Uh-huh."

—

Later, after dinner when Elsa finally departs from them to spend the rest of the evening with her sister, Red turns and slugs Rapunzel in the arm. They're alone walking back to their bedrooms so no one's around to see it.

"Ow!" Blondie draws back, wincing a frown. "What was that for?"

"Embarrassing me in front of Elsa." she growls. "What else would it be for?"

"Your steak wasn't rare enough and you're just taking it out on me?" Rapunzel suggests, unable to help laughing in spite of the pain. "You're _still_ pouting about that?"

"No. Shut up."

Rapunzel's smile widens. "You _so_ like her."

Red keeps walking, trying valiantly not to smile stupidly like she wants. "Yeah so do you."

Rapunzel rolls her eyes briefly, skipping a little as she follows her.

"I mean you really like her. Like," She waggles her eyebrow suggestively. "_Like her_, like her."

Red shrugs uncomfortably. "Maybe."

"Maybe." Rapunzel repeats, glancing over at her knowingly. "That means you like her _a lot_."

Red rolls her eyes again, humoring her. "Whatever you say, Blondie."

"You're not denying." she sing-songs, poking her side teasingly.

"So? That doesn't mean anything."

"Au contraire, little wolf. That means everything."

Rapunzel throws one arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Just remember, she's family so if you break her heart I'm obligated to kick your ass."

Red scoffs at her, more offended than intimidated. "You said I was a part of your family."

"You are." she assures, squeezing her shoulders. "Okay, how about this? If she breaks your heart, then I'll kick _her_ ass. But of course if you two end up breaking each other's hearts then-"

"Let me guess, then you'd bring out the frying pan, right?"

Rapunzel stares at her in amazement. "I swear Red sometimes it's like we are of one mind."

She nods, wholeheartedly agreeing. They were scary connected like that. "Must be all the pinky-linking we do."

"Probably." Rapunzel agrees. Her arm drops from her shoulder. "So what should we do now? It's still early and I'm not tired enough to go to bed."

"We could go back to the village and find the pub." Red suggests, catching a glimpse of the village through one of the windows.

After the long day she's had, she could totally do with some beer.

"Great idea!" Rapunzel claps her hands excitedly. "You know I love me some ruffians and thugs."

"Just don't go bringing up dreams again." Red pleads to her, thinking of their last pub experience and how _that_ ended, as Rapunzel proceeds to drag her away.

"Cause I so cannot deal with another impromptu group sing-along."

* * *

**AN: If I didn't completely butcher this chapter and I still have you readers wanting me to continue, then SWEET I'll do just that. If not, I'll leave it at this.**

**Also - the intended pairing, it's kind of obvious what I have in mind should I continue. I mean, Quick and Brittana have been my OTPs for a long time, but guys...good god. The Quinntana feels...they're just too strong. I've kind of been obsessing about them lately and I just can't resist...**

**ANYWAYS.**

**Thanks for reading, and be sure to drop a review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Wow, I'm glad you all are liking the story so much! Those reviews on the last chapter were all kinds of sweet and awesome.  
**

**Anyways, this time I give a few subtle hints as to who the New Directions' fairytale counterparts are. All the fairy tales from which their characters come from have all been made into Disney animated films or shorts at some point, that's my hint. It's not that great a one considering just about everything been's disneyfied, but I don't want to give it away. **

**Anyways, read. enjoy. review!**

* * *

When Monday mornings come around Santana usually drags her feet when walking to school, in attempt to delay those inevitably mundane eight hours that would soon follow, but in winter it's completely a different story.

She can never get to school fast enough.

Actually, that's a lie. She probably could if she like sprinted, but like hell she was gonna be known as _that_ girl. The one who fucking runs to school like Forrest Gump each morning.

Hurrying across the street but mindful of the sometimes slippery pavement, Santana quickly heads over to the school's main entrance. She'd like to get inside before her coffee ices over on her.

She stops short of her destination, however, when she recognizes Quinn sitting on one of the benches just outside the building with a book in her lap.

Santana can't help but shake her head at the sight, because really it _is_ fucking cold out here and yet Quinn's kicking back like it's nothing. But then Santana remembers this is _Little Miss_ '_the cold never bothered me anyway'_ they were talking about and lets her disbelief subside.

Santana approaches the unsuspecting blonde without a second thought. "Sup, Q-Tip." she greets, prompting Quinn to lift her gaze and stare questionably at her.

Santana just shrugs. "What can I say, I think of you when I clean out my ears."

Wait. What?

In her defense, it's _really_ fucking early.

Too early for her to be making conversation, apparently.

"Thank...you?" Quinn says, unsurely. Was that even a compliment to begin with?

Santana looks away for a second, embarrased to say the least, then sits down next to Quinn even though she'd much rather go inside and _not_ freeze her tits off out here.

"So have a good weekend?" Quinn starts conversationally, closing her book and tucking it away in her bag.

"It was alright." she says indifferently, too slow to catch a glimpse of Quinn's book title. "Worked and slept through most of it."

"You certainly are a hard worker."

Santana shrugs off the compliment, choosing to stare out into the distance where the sun was just starting to peek out above the town. "Have to be. It's the only way I'll ever get out of this dump." But she'd rather not talk about that. Especially now when she's sleep deprived and more likely to reveal something too personal without realizing it.

"Anyways." Santana turns around behind her and plucks a coffee cup out of the tray she'd brought along with her. "Here. Brought you something to warm you up." She passes the to-go cup over to Quinn. "One chamomile tea."

Something akin to surprise flickers across Quinn's features. Her brow furrows accordingly. "How do you-?"

"It's all you ever order at Abuela's." Santana responds easily enough, watching as she takes the cup. "Though I don't see why, I've tried that stuff and it's nasty as fuck."

Quinn smiles briefly before explaining, "It's supposed to help with anxiety and insomnia."

Santana reaches back for her own drink without taking her eyes off the blonde. She frowns. "Having stress dreams or something?"

"Something like that." Quinn answers vaguely, bringing her cup up to her lips and taking an experimental sip. "Anyways I've found that this helps calm me."

Santana studies her for a moment. Now that she mentioned it, Quinn did look a little tired around the eyes.

Santana feels her lips part, ready to ask for clarification on that, but closes her mouth in the same instance. She doesn't want to pry and make Quinn uncomfortable.

If Quinn wanted to talk about it, she'd do so of her own volition.

"Yeah, I've been having weird dreams too lately." Santana says instead, because it was true. But she shakes her head to herself, not wanting to get into that either. "I gotta stop eating before bed."

Out of the corner of her eye she can feel Quinn staring at her while drinks her coffee. "Let me guess. Black coffee with two and a half packets of sugar."

Santana lowers her cup and raises her eyebrows at the blonde, mildly impressed.

"You're not the only one who's observant." Quinn shrugs.

Santana can tell she's trying not to smile, even when those pink - and somehow not in least bit chapped - lips disappear behind the rim of her cup to take another sip.

As a result Santana finds herself trying to ignore the fluttery feeling suddenly in the pit of her stomach. "I don't know if that's a good thing or bad." she chuckles, albeit awkwardly.

She gulps down more of her coffee, hoping it would help wash away the sensation.

"I brought Britts a hot chocolate but who knows if she'll make it on time." she brings up, if only to distract herself. Santana glances between both sides of the street for any sight of the blonde, then back at the lone cup still in the holder. "She might just end up getting some nice cold chocolate milk instead."

"We should probably get inside then." Quinn rises from her seat, tea in hand, after glancing at her cell phone.

_Thank God_. Relieved, Santana pushes herself to her feet and gladly follows the blonde toward the front entrance.

"So are you ready for glee club today?" Quinn asks once they're inside.

"Ugh." Santana pulls a face after taking another sip of coffee. "Fabray it's too fucking early to talk about the G-word. And _thanks_ for the reminder. Here I'd gone a whole eight hours without it being brought up."

Fucking glee club was all Brittany could talk about this weekend, she was so excited. If she wasn't so sweet and adorable and well _Brittany_, Santana probably would've smacked her by now.

"Still not looking forward to it, huh?"

"No." she scoffs. "Aren't you?"

Quinn walks over to her locker slowly. "I dunno." she shrugs. Santana holds onto her tea while she fiddles with her locker combination. "Glee club is certainly something I never would have done on my own but with you and Brittany there, I don't know, it could be fun."

Santana shakes her head, unconvinced. She leans up against the lockers next to Quinn's. "I took a look at the sign-up sheet last week. Saddest bunch of misfits I ever saw. Excluding ourselves, _obviously_."

Quinn returns her smirk. "Obviously." she echoes, making Santana chuckle.

Above their heads the warning bell rings.

Rolling her eyes, Santana grudgingly pushes away from the lockers. She glances around in vain for their other blonde. "Well it looks like Britts is getting chocolate milk after all."

"Thank you for the tea, Santana." Quinn smiles, taking back her cup. "I owe you one."

"No worries." she shrugs, adjusting her bag, ready to leave. "See you later, Q-"

"Call me Q-Tip again and I'll smack you."

Santana laughs shortly in surprise. That was the most casual, off-handed warning she's ever received. "Hey I thought that tea was supposed to make you all calm and nice."

"It does." Quinn closes her locker, then turns to her unapologetically. "But that doesn't mean I still can't be cheeky."

Santana scoffs at her, mildly shaking her head, because really, who even has the word _cheeky_ in their vocabulary anymore?

Quinn breezes past her. "I'll see you in class, Satan. I mean _Santana_." She quickly corrects over her shoulder, a teasing little smile playing across her lips.

Santana watches her go, her brow quirked but lips smiling along. It isn't until Quinn disappears out of sight that it dawns on her that she totally missed her window for responding with one of her signature comebacks.

Her smile falters.

What the fuck, man? That never happens.

—

"Do we seriously have to do this?"

Santana's been asking this question all day, hoping she'd eventually wear Brittany down enough so that once and for all they could get out of this glee club nonsense.

"It's going to be fun, Santana." Brittany maintains, skipping down the hallway, leading the way toward the choir room. "Have a little faith."

Santana, along with Quinn, follows with reluctance. "Fine. But if Mr. Schuester so much as _tries_ to rap, I'm outta there."

She's heard he does that.

The choir room is eerily silent when they walk through the door. But not because it was empty, oh no, there were people alright, just no one was really talking to each other. They were all just sitting and waiting awkwardly for Mr. Schuester to arrive.

It's like one of those first day of school silences, but only worse because this was fucking _glee club_.

The atmosphere was already so goddamn pathetic that Santana doesn't even take more than two steps before turning on her heel and attempting to leave.

"Oh no you don't." Acting quickly, Brittany latches onto her jacket. "Come back here you."

"Brittany I will buy you all the sour patch kids in the world if you let me leave." she begs, silently groaning as Brittany drags her toward the risers. Quinn follows closely behind.

Brittany chooses three seats off-center on the very top level. "Quit being such a baby, S. For all you know glee will end up becoming the best part of your day."

Santana snorts at the very idea, then takes to the seat in the middle of her two blondes. "I highly doubt it. But if I ever do say that, for whatever reason, feel free to lock me up in an institution because I clearly have had lost my mind."

Quinn shifts one leg over the other, chuckling mildly. "Duly noted, Santana."

A few seconds later, three more students trickle into the choir room.

Seeing the letterman jackets first and foremost, Santana's brow furrows. Football players in _glee club?_ Was this some kind of joke?

"I heard Mr. Schuester's blackmailing into joining the club." Brittany whispers, leaning in so both her and Quinn could hear. "Apparently he found drugs in their lockers but agreed not to report them if they joined."

"Schue must have found Estrogen in Hudson's locker." Santana murmurs, eying the ridiculously tall quarterback in particular as he and his buddies take seats opposite them. "I mean look at those man titties. They're almost as big as mine. "

She shakes her head, partly in awe and disgust. "For all our sakes I hope Santa Claus gives him a training bra for Christmas. Ain't nobody want to see those powdered pastry nipples on a day to day basis."

Quinn and Brittany both laugh, then stifle it behind their hands when Mr. Schuester walks into room.

The second she takes in his Blossom style vest, that ridiculously gelled hair, and hideously optimistic smile, Santana decides it's perfectly acceptable for her to check out of the conversation before it even starts.

So for the next ten minutes or so she reverts to autopilot mode, opting to file her nails instead of taking part in this introductory meeting.

She would have gladly done this the entire meeting had Mr. Schue not suddenly clapped his hands together after his little welcoming speech and beckoned them forward.

"Okay everyone up out of your seats and come out onto the floor."

Santana grudgingly follows Quinn and Brittany down the risers. "What the hell are we doing?" she asks even though she's pretty sure she's better off not knowing.

Quinn sighs, looking about as excited about this whole thing as everyone else in the room was. "Playing one of those 'get to know each other' games."

Santana's eyes fit to the ceiling. _Lord help her_.

She fucking hates when teachers pull this shit. If she had wanted to get to know any of these losers better she would have done it already.

Once everyone is out of their seats, Mr. Schuester rolls up the sleeves of his button-down shirt. "Alright guys, I'm going to set my watch for three minutes."

While he speaks, he moves people around the room and partners everyone up. "In that time I want you guys to introduce yourself to the person I've placed front of you, and each say five interesting things about yourself and why you joined glee club, then when time's up, we're going to keep rotating until everyone has met with each other. Okay?"

"What is this show choir or speed dating?" Santana mutters to no one in particular, shaking her head in disbelief.

The next hour turns out to be the longest fucking hour of her entire fucking life. And with no signs of it ending any time soon, Santana's beginning to seriously contemplate _Schue-icide_.

"Alright guys." Mr. Schue shuts off his timer when it goes off for what feels like the hundredth time. "Switch."

Santana throws her head back in a silent groan.

Shoot her.

Shoot her now.

She feels like she already met with everyone in the room twice already. Jesus.

First there had been Wheels - er, Artie - the AV geek who hds a thing for role playing fantasy games and Monty Python. And was surprisingly pervy for a nerd. (He practically ogled her chest the entire three minutes and she's pretty sure at one point he referred to his penis as 'Excalibur').

Then there was the socially awkward goth. Aka Girl Chang. Aka Tina. That girl stuttered so much that Santana's patience was all but nonexistent by the time they were though.

The only thing Santana learned about Ching-Chang was that she had a dog named 'Little Brother'.

...or a little brother named 'Dog'. She forgets which. Either way the girl was all kinds of strange.

After Tina was the _other_ Asian. Aka Boy Chang. Aka Mike, a dance and martial arts enthusiast who hardly spoke. She'd once heard through the grapevine that his dad was like a former military general or something. But she's pretty sure he comes from a family of ninjas.

And then there was Puck. The delinquent thief who once stole his mother's volvo and drove it through a convenience store window, then tried to drive away with the ATM in tow. Said he was going to give it to "_charity"_.

Charity being the stripper he used to date.

The guy was a total egghead but one she occasionally tolerated, so every once and a while they'd hang out. Mainly at the Rabbit Hole - the local bar - when they liked to indulge in a little underage drinking together. And buffalo wings.

"Santana?"

Santana blinks out of her daze and is dismayed to find Finn Hudson and his gigantor frame towering in front of her.

"What do you want, Finnept?"

His brow furrows at the name but recovers quickly. "We're supposed to you know...get to know each other."

Santana just stares at him.

"Well, okay. I can first if you want." he offers, sitting down in front of her. He drums his hands on his lap nervously, unsure of where to start. "Well my favorite food is grilled cheese sandwiches and I enjoy camping, being out in woods and nature and stuff."

Santana can't help but roll her eyes. She already knows this. Whenever she takes a run through the hiking trail she always sees him and Puck out there camping and hunting with their football buddies. Or their 'Merry Men' as she liked to call them because the whole 'bonding' thing was so like something out of Brokeback Mountain it was ridiculous.

"...I'm pretty good with a crossbow. But Puck's way better. I don't particularly like shooting stuff, like actual living stuff, like animals, but there was this one time I accidentally got the mailman with my BB gun. I was like eleven and it was actually really traumatizing-"

Unable to take anymore of this, Santana pushes herself upright without warning.

Finn frowns at this and looks up at her. "Where are you going?

"Bathroom, Finnocence." she glares, stepping down the riser. "I'd rather flush my head down the toilet than listen to you babble on like the overgrown infant that you are."

While in the bathroom Santana debates not returning to the choir room at all, but then she thinks of Brittany and Quinn, and those blondes are enough to keep her from ditching.

Unfortunately by the time she gets back everyone has switched partners again and when she locks onto the one person currently without a partner, she instantly regrets her decision to come back.

It's the moment she's been dreading.

Rachel Berry doesn't even need to open her mouth for Santana to be overcome with a splitting headache.

"Shove it, Berry." she says before the hobbit can properly approach her with some kind of a wordy greeting.

Santana walks past Rachel and goes over to the risers to retrieve her bag. She sits down next to Brittany who was in the middle of chatting with Mercedes while she searches for her lunch.

When she successfully finds the apple she'd been saving, she polishes it on her jacket before taking a huge ass bite. She was going to need the energy boost if she was going to last these next three minutes without committing homicide.

While she chews she notices Mercedes staring at her.

"Sup, Wheezy." she acknowledges, smirking because she knows the girl hated that name.

As expected, Mercedes is unamused. "Bitch I will take you to the carpet."

"Wanky."

Mercedes cracks an unwitting smile, her eyes rolling as they revert back to Brittany.

Her and Mercedes kind of had a rivalry going - the two of them usually trading insults more than anything - but Mercedes was alright in her books. They actually had a lot in common.

Mercedes, like herself, waitressed at her family's restaurant. It was a small hole in the wall joint that specialized in cajun cuisine. And like herself, Mercedes had dreams beyond her family's expectations. Mercedes was saving to get out of Storybrooke to pursue a singing career. Though, as far as Santana was concerned, homegirl could easily make a living as a famous chef, having inherited her family's epic culinary skills.

(Not that 'Cedes would ever hear that praise from her out loud).

Aside from breadsticks, Santana's favorite food was Mercedes' beignets. Those things were _the_ bomb. Every time Mercedes brought those bad boys to school, Santana immediately traded them for her cafeteria tots.

Those golden potato nuggets were like Mercedes' kryptonite. Girl was legit cray-cray over them.

Just then someone clears their throat.

Santana blinks, then glares at Rachel for interrupting her thoughts.

"So, um," Berry shifts in front of her nervously before ultimately taking one of the chairs and turning it around so that it faced Santana. "Would you like to go first or should I?"

Santana rolls her eyes. "Bite me, Berry."

A look of hurt flashes across her face before Rachel chooses to dismiss the hostility and press onward. "You know when I saw your name on the signup sheet, I'd surely thought it was some kind of joke."

Santana speaks around her mouthful. "Why?"

Rachel shrugs, her hands resting on her kneecaps. "You just don't seem like the glee club type." she says honestly.

Santana can feel her eyes narrow at that comment. "Newsflash Berry you're not the only one at this school with talent. Hell I have more talent in my pinkie than you do in your entire dwarf body."

Beside her, Brittany nudges her, shooting her that _play nice_ look.

Rolling her eyes, Santana grudgingly offers up her apple. Because she sure as hell isn't going to apologize. "Want some?" She then throws Brittany a quick look that basically reads, _There. Happy?_

Rachel turns her chin, politely declining with a wave of her hand. "No thank you. I don't care much for apples."

"Who doesn't like apples?" she snorts, before tearing into the rest of her fruit.

"I had a bad experience with one once." Rachel explains, surprisingly opting to be vague for once. "A traumatic one."

"Find a worm in it?" she guesses boredly.

Wait. Why is she making conversation?

"I once found a mouse in my spaghetti." Brittany throws in randomly, listening in on their conversation.

"Yeah well, you know what they say an apple a day keeps the doctor away." Santana tosses her apple core into the trashcan a few feet away. Then, as her gaze returns to Rachel, tilts her head. "Though by the looks of it you might be wanting a doctor to come your way." Santana leans in closer and inspects the side of the shorter girl's face. "Seriously Berry that schnoze is like the size of South America. Don't Jewish girls usually get nose jobs for their bat mitzvah?"

Rachel crosses her arms in a huff, miffed. "I am perfectly content with my appearance, Santana. Just like Barbra Streisand, who despite her dazzling beauty was pressured throughout her career to get a nose job. And besides not all of us can afford plastic surgery." she throws in on a whim, pointedly eyeing her chest.

"You better watch it, RuPaul." Santana warns, admittedly caught off guard by that jab. "I'll have you know that these are not fake!" She cups her girls to emphasize all her god-given, free from enhancement, lady lovliness. "This is my own natural perk!"

"Provided by Victoria's Secret." mutters Mercedes, more interested in what was transpiring than making talk with Brittany, who she was already friends with anyways.

"Screw you Effie." Santana glares, hands still holding her chest. "This thing barely has any padding at all. This au naturale Lopez. Don't be hatin' just because you got itty bitty spider bite titties."

Mercedes scoffs a laugh, her brow arching. "Seriously? My boobs are _clearly_ bigger than yours, Santana. These ain't no spider bites."

Rachel shakes her head and quickly tries to diffuse the situation before a game of 'who's are bigger?' starts up. "Santana let's just please continue with Mr. Schue's exercise. I don't want to get in trouble."

Santana just rolls her eyes, because really like Mr. Schue would actually punish them for not doing what he said. This wasn't even a fucking class.

"Here, okay. I'll go first." Rachel tries again. "Five things about me-"

"Shove it, Berry. I already know more about you than I care to admit. You're short, obnoxious, hyperactive, you clearly have a thing for deer sweaters, anything even remotely argyle, you're a vegan - vegetarian whatever, and you've clearly got the hots for Lumps the Clown over there."

Rachel blushes hard at that last one. Santana smirks, reeling in the girl's embarrassment and at the fact that she's sitting in the riser above Berry, making it easy for her to look down at her.

The moment is thankfully interrupted by Mr. Schuester's obnoxious timer. "Okay, guys." he calls to them. "One more round, then you're free to go."

Santana groans internally after her gaze flickers to the clock overhead. She wasted her _entire_ lunch period for this shit?

Now royally pissed off, she remains slouched in her seat while everyone gets up and moves around. Whoever the hell she had left to talk to could come to her.

"Hey stranger."

Santana recognizes the voice instantly and as a result her head snaps to attention. Her irritation blows out like a flame on a candle.

"Long time no see." she smiles in return, straightening her posture just as Quinn comes around to sit next to her.

At least Schue saved the best for last.

"So, what were you and Lady Elaine Fairchild talking about?" she wonders, having noticed while she was tuning out Berry that Quinn had been talking quite animatedly with Kurt Hummel about something.

"Books mostly. Kurt really likes to read."

"Figures." she scoffs. "That little he-she is always in the library."

The nerd.

"It's the only place where he isn't harassed by bullies." Quinn explains in his defense.

Kurt, with his rosy cheeks and perfectly coiffed hair, was the perfect target for bullies. It was obvious by his straight from Project Runway fashion sense that the kid was capital G-A-Y but he had yet to officially come out of the closet. Still that denial did not deter the bullies from shoving him into lockers or giving him slushie facials.

Honestly, Santana felt for him. The only reason no one ever gave her any flack when she would walk down the halls, pinkies linked, with Brittany was because she was a girl. A very hot and very intimidating girl, but a girl nonetheless. Teenage boys were more than okay with the idea of girls liking other girls - she's pretty sure all the rumors of hers and Britts' 'relationship' were grade A source material for their spank banks - but for guys like Kurt, they were shown no mercy.

Kurt tried to bury his head in books, in attempt to keep a low profile, but the poor kid didn't realize his outfits made sure that would never happen.

"So how'd it go with Rachel?" Quinn asks curiously, shaking Santana out of her thoughts.

"She's now number one on my hit list." she responds casually.

"Oh?" Quinn chuckles. "And who was number one before her?"

"Ellen Degeneres."

Quinn merely raises her brow in response.

"What?" She frowns defensively. "She freaks me out. Always smiling and shit. No one's that happy. Unless you're self-medicating, which I bet she is. And I'm pretty sure she keeps those little british girls, the ones always wearing the tutus even though they stopped being cute like four years ago, locked in her basement when she's not trotting them out like show ponies. She says they return home to England when they're not on the show but really I think she's got them working in her sweatshop against their will, making her underwear for her. The reason the fabric's so soft is because it's made from poor little Sophia Grace's sweat and tears."

Quinn shakes her head, trying valiantly not to smile like she wants to. "Santana, that's just..." she trails off, without the right words to finish that sentence. A bit of stifled laughter bubbles out of its own accord.

Santana just sits back with a triumphant smile on her face. Making Quinn laugh was no easy feat but she definitely was getting more chuckles out of her these days.

"Anyways." Quinn blows out a calming breath once she recovers. Then lifts her gaze to meet Santana. "You're supposed to tell me five things about yourself." she reminds expectantly.

Santana chuckles. She hadn't thought they needed to play Schue's lame ass little game but whatever. There was still a lot she didn't know about the blonde and she'll bite if Quinn does.

"Okay." Santana clears her throat before starting. "Legend has it when I came out of my mother I told the nurse she was fat."

She smirks at Quinn's eye roll. That one was pretty obvious, she'll admit. But she wasn't taking this seriously. Not really. Her only goal was to keep that adorable smile of Quinn's from fading.

And if that meant spouting absolute nonsense, she'd totally do it.

"Also, you can't tell but I have razor blades hidden in my hair." She gestures around her hair, making Quinn scoff a laugh. "Tons. Just all up in there."

"You planning on shanking someone?"

Santana guffaws loudly at that. "How does a girl like you know the word _shank_?"

"I watch tv." she shrugs innocently, that baby smile still playing across her lips.

Santana shakes her head, making a mental note to ask what the hell kind of tv she watched. "Uh, what else?" It takes her a second to get back on track.

"Well I'm kind of obsessed with breadsticks, but I think you already knew that."

Quinn nods. "From Tony's, right?" The town's sole Italian restaurant but mostly all the kids nicknamed it 'Breadstix', for obvious reasons. "You know I heard they don't even bake them fresh, they just fly them in frozen from the Dominican Republic."

Santana's smile fades at that remark. "You should probably steer clear of insulting my beloved sticks." she warns, only partly teasing. "When I get really pissed off, Santana gets taken over by my other evil personality. I call her Snix. Her wrath of words is called Snix Juice." she deadpans, though admittedly it was hard to keep a straight face when Quinn snorted an uncharacteristic laugh. "I'm kind of like the incredible Hulk. You can't blame me for anything Snix does, so you best watch what you say from here on out."

"I'll keep that in mind." It was obvious Quinn did not take her alter-ego story seriously, but Santana can't really bring herself to care really.

"Okay." Santana crosses her arms and nods at the blonde. "Your turn."

"Hey, that was only four things." Quinn points out quite indignantly.

Santana rolls her eyes scoffingly. "Psh, that was like thirty. Your turn, bitch. What's your favorite food?"

Quinn thinks about it for a moment. "It'd have to be a tie between bacon and chocolate."

"Have you ever tried them together?"

Quinn shakes her head. "No. Though I'm sure they wouldn't be half bad. I do love sweet and salty combinations."

She waves the thought off though. "You're distracting me. You still have to tell me one more thing about you."

"Fine." Santana pushes herself upright because the bell had just rung. "I once made out with a mannequin."

She shoulders her bag and stares at the blonde, brow raised. "There. Happy?"

Quinn's dumfounded expression was absolutely priceless. "Wait. What?"

—

Lately Santana hasn't been sleeping well.

The strange dreams that have been plaguing her intermittently were now becoming like a frequent thing. They annoyed her for many reasons, but what she really fucked hated was the fact that these dreams were always so goddamn intense that inevitably every time she had one, her subconscious would wake herself up out of it like it was some kind of really bad nightmare.

But the thing was these dreams weren't nightmares. Sure she'd wake up with her eyes flashing open, her body bolting upright, and her heart pounding like they were but it didn't feel like it was out of fear.

But then again what the hell did she know? The memory of her dreams always faded fast on her, dissolving into nothingness long before she could get her bearings, let alone figure out these dreams. It was ironic (and incredibly frustrating) that something so vivid, and visceral enough to actually rip her out of unconsciousness, could slip through her fingers so easily.

Santana exhales deeply and stares tiredly up at the ceiling in her darkened room. This shit needed to fucking stop already.

Kicking away her sheets, she then throws back her covers altogether and gets out of bed. Her body's still running on the adrenaline high from her sudden awakening so even as she pads across the cold wooden floor barefooted, Santana feels warmer than usual.

A lot warmer.

As she walks over to her window, she rolls her stiff neck around and scratches at a nonexistent itch along the side of it, suddenly with that creepy crawling feeling dancing along her skin.

She shudders, then rolls her shoulders to shake off the feeling.

She knows she sometimes joked that she was like a lizard and always needed something warm beneath her otherwise she couldn't digest her food, but right now she legit feel like that could very well be true.

She honestly felt like she needed to shed her skin or something.

God damnit.

Stepping forward, Santana pushes her forehead against the windowpane, relishing in its cold surface. She lingers there for a moment, even going as far as pressing her cheek against the glass too, before slowly pulling away. The window is frosted but not enough to completely obscure her view.

It's the same view she's known her entire life but she liked it all the same, occasionally stopping to to admire it if for no other reason. It was comforting to her in a way.

While she props her arm up against the window and rests her chin there, her gaze flickers past the town itself to the forest that bordered it. One glimpse of those evergreen trees and suddenly her bones are aching, desperately _craving_, for a run.

If Santana was in her right mind (and by that she means awake) she'd probably sooner commit murder than so much as step out onto the front porch at this hour, but every so often on nights like these, running out her restlessness is the only solution.

—

She knows what she's doing isn't safe, what with all the ice and snow everywhere, or healthy for that matter, but she can't really bring herself to give a damn when tearing through the trees makes her feel so fuckin' _alive_.

She knows this path like the back of her hand so she runs it over and over again, barely pausing to take a breath. But eventually, after a fair amount of time whipping through the trees like some kind of crazed red blur, she starts to slows her pace.

When she finds herself mildly jogging, she figures it's time to head back and at least try to get in a couple hours sleep before school.

Once she returns to town, she decides to take the shortcut through the park. She maintains a steady pace the entire way, only slowing for a brief second to see if the snowman she'd built with Brittany and Quinn happened to still be standing. She's pleasantly surprised to see that it was - she would have thought for sure that some bratty kids would have demolished him already - but that contentment is short lived, however, the second it registers that Olaf was not the only one out there up on that hill.

Santana skids to a halt, nearly slipping on the icy pavement in the process. _What the -?_

She turns off the sidewalk path without a second thought and runs up the incline, oblivious to the ankle deep snow rapidly soaking through her shoes and socks.

"Are you _fucking_ insane?"

As her voice shatters through peace and quiet, she wonders for a split second if the sound carried through to the entire town.

A startled Quinn whips around to face her, effectively caught off-guard. "Santana?" Her brow furrows in utter confusion. "What are you doing here?"

Here she finds Quinn fucking Fabray, at who the fuck knows o'clock in the morning, out in the snow and without so much as a goddamn sweatshirt on, and _she's_ the confused one?

Santana stares at her in complete disbelief. "What am I-? What are _you_ doing here?" Suddenly furious, she all but rips her jacket zipper down in order to get it off. "Have you completely lost your goddamn mind?"

"Are you trying to get yourself sick?" She hastily shrugs out of her jacket and attempts to cover the crazy blonde with it, but Quinn has the audacity to step back.

"I'm fine."

"The fuck you are." she scoffs. "How long have you been fucking out here?"

Quinn shakes her head. "A while I guess." She folds her arms across her chest, shrugging unknowingly. "I couldn't sleep."

_Like that fucking explains things!_ "So you decided to come here?" Santana continues to shake her head, because seriously, what the hell? "Are you fucking suicidal or something?"

Quinn doesn't answer her for the longest time. Her eyes are burning but she tries to hide it by keeping her head turned away. All the while her hands are wringing themselves together. Quinn doesn't even look conscious of the fact she's doing it.

Santana shifts uneasily, feeling her anger dissipating but her concern growing. Quinn hasn't answered her question and that really fucking worries her.

"Hey." She tilts her head as she steps forward, trying to get the blonde to meet her eyes. "Can you tell me what this is about?" she asks, gentler this time.

"I'm not cold." Quinn finally says, her voice but a whisper at first. "It's below freezing and I'm not cold."

Santana frowns, not understanding. She reaches out and grabs the girl's bare wrist. "You feel plenty cold to me."

But not like the popsicle she expected.

"But _I can't feel it_."

Santana lifts her gaze and sees Quinn trying to distract from obvious fear that brings her by plastering a small sad smile across her lips.

"Look." Quinn pushes back her sleeve and shows Santana her forearm. "No goosebumps. The hairs on my arms aren't standing on edge. My teeth should be chattering like crazy right now, my lips should be blue, I should be experiencing all the effects of hypothermia from standing out here for so long. But here I am and _nothing_."

To prove it so, Quinn reaches down and scoops up a handful of snow in her bare hand. She doesn't even flinch when she curls her hand and crushes the ice into her palm.

"That's not normal."

Quinn shakes her head, a bitter smile escaping her. "You're telling me." She allows the snow to trickle out of her grasp. "I've always been this way, you know? Never really got cold. But lately it feels like it's just getting worse. Like...I don't know. Like I can't feel anything at all anymore."

Santana can't help the way her temperament suddenly flares up again in that moment. She doesn't particularly understand it either, but those words just rub her the wrong way for some reason and send her snapping in a biting tone. "So what, you couldn't sleep and decided to concoct a fucking experiment?"

_One that could potentially land you in the fucking hospital?_

Quinn doesn't appreciate her sudden hostility, especially when she's just trying to be honest, and as a result throws it right back in her face. "What are you doing out here then?" she demands, her eyes flashing. "Last time I checked you couldn't stand to be outside in the cold any longer than you had to. Now you're willing going for runs in the middle of the night when the weather is at its coldest?"

"This isn't fucking about me." she snaps, though admittedly she didn't know what was going on with her lately either.

Quinn shakes her head, exhaling deeply, because really why are they even fighting? "It didn't even occur to me that I'd left my apartment like this until I was out here. And even when it registered, it wasn't because I was suddenly cold. I just..." she trails off, unsure of how to even fucking explain it. "Look I don't know what's wrong with me. I couldn't sleep and I just...I don't know. I felt like I needed to come here." Her eyes flicker to the snowman on her right. Then just as quickly she turns away, her eyes suddenly brimming again.

Quinn pushes a hand through her hair stressfully, starting pace around in the snow. "I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm slowly losing mind and it's just getting worse."

_"Don't you see? It's not getting better. It's never going to get better!"_

Santana blinks, mildly taken aback by...whatever that had been. It was like this conversation had evoked a memory of a similar one they've had before.

Only problem is she's pretty sure this is the only conversation they've ever had like this.

Although she will say that watching Quinn pace around, looking so unlike her usual composed self was bringing about a serious case of deja vu.

It made absolutely no fucking sense.

Maybe they were _both_ losing their shit.

"You've been having nightmares, haven't you?" Santana realizes, remembering how Quinn had mentioned she hadn't been sleeping well.

She almost adds _too_ to that question. _You've been having nightmares too?_

Was there something in the town's fucking water or something? Shit.

"I don't...yes. I mean, they're not _nightmares_ per se. But they're...I wouldn't even know what to call them."

"Really fucking weird dreams."

"I can't even remember them really. Sometimes _maybe_ a fragment will stick with me. But most of the time, when I wake up it's just a feeling I'm left with. Sometimes I'll wake up feeling so stressed out. Other times I'll be left with this inexplicable guilt weighing down on my shoulders." Quinn presses on, her voice nearly breaking. She worries the snowflake pendant she wears around her neck between her thumb and forefinger. "Then there are mornings where I hold so much self-hatred for myself that I can hardly stand it and I have no idea why. I just do. These dreams, I can't remember them but I certainly can feel their effects. If that makes any sense."

Santana really wishes Brittany was here. She was so much fucking better comforting people than she was. "Look, I honestly don't know what the fuck is going on with you." _Or with me, for that matter_. "But I do know one thing: you're not crazy."

Quinn shakes her head, appreciative but disbelieving. "You don't know that."

"If I so much as thought you were even a little nutsy cuckoo, I wouldn't be hanging around you, Fabray. Santana Lopez don't do crazy."

Quinn smiles faintly, sniffling slightly. Santana can't help but shake her head a little at the sight, because really no girl should look _that_ good with those telltale streaks of tears trailing down her cheeks.

"Anyways." Santana pushes aside those distracting thoughts. "Just because you're like a legit snowflake and the cold doesn't bother you doesn't mean being out here is okay. So right now I'm going to take you home. But before I do you're going to take my jacket and put it on before I fucking slap you stupid." Once again Santana extends her jacket out to her. "And don't think that I won't."

Rolling her eyes briefly, Quinn acquiesces. "How are you not cold?" she wonders shortly thereafter, shrugging on her jacket one arm at a time with a furrowed brow.

Santana glances down at herself, realizing for the first time that she's been standing out here without her jacket one and yet hasn't shivered once. To be quite honest she still felt like she was running on her adrenaline high from earlier.

"Hot people don't get cold." she settles for instead.

Quinn stares at her, eyes wide with disbelief. Her shoulders slump accordingly. "Seriously? You tell me this now?" She shakes her head in mock incredulity. "Well now all this makes sense."

Santana snorts, rolling her eyes. Though she's actually quite relieved Quinn was able to joke about it. "Bitch you are not hot."

She smirks at the blonde's faltering expression. "Cute, _maybe_. But only if you squint like really hard, like at a distance."

Santana's barely able to sidestep out of the way of Quinn's oncoming fist. "Jerk."

—

"Nice place you got here." Santana compliments shortly after being invited inside Quinn's apartment.

"Thanks."

While the blonde ventures to the kitchen, Santana pulls her hair out of its high ponytail (she liked to keep it up while she ran) and shakes it out, hoping the moisture outside hadn't made it frizz too much. She steps further into the apartment to get a better look at everything.

Quinn's place was by no means a penthouse suite but it definitely wasn't a shoebox either. In fact it was pretty spacious, she'd go as far as to say maybe even _too_ spacious for just one person, and despite the palette of predominantly cool colors, the space had an unmistakable warmth to it.

To Santana's left was the kitchen and to her right the living in front of her was a small hallway leading to one door at the very end of it and two doors on either side. Two bedrooms and a bath, she guessed.

Neither area had so much of an ounce of clutter. Not a pillow left unfluffed nor a dish left unclean. And though the apartment was clean it wasn't immaculate, which Santana liked. It held a homey atmosphere thanks in part to the vintage-y decor, with a common motif being snowflakes.

Fortunately they weren't thrown all over the place obnoxiously, just scattered here and there, making little appearances on certain things like the dishtowels or on a candle.

Overall the whole apartment had a wintery vibe to it but it was very subtle. It wasn't like someone had barfed Christmas all over the place.

"Would you like something to drink?" Quinn asks from the kitchen suddenly. "Tea? Coffee?"

Santana shakes her head, all the while gravitating to the large bookshelf that not only housed books but Quinn's music and movies too. "None for me thanks."

Though coffee sounds like it'd hit the spot right about now, she probably shouldn't. Otherwise she'll be up the rest of the night wired like a squirrel.

While Quinn's off doing god knows what, Santana glances over her (surprisingly extensive) music collection. Etta James, The Supremes, Aretha Franklin, just about every album of ever girl group that came out of the 50's and 60's was here.

"You've got a lot of soul for a white girl." she comments, turning her head in time to see the blonde blush.

Chuckling, Santana reverts her attention forward. Quinn also had plenty of '70's rock, like the Rolling Stones and Fleetwood Mac, which wasn't her type of music per se but one she respected.

Further down the row she gets to the more modern stuff. She can't help but smirk when she sees her two favorite girl's albums side by side.

Amy Winehouse and Adele.

"Favorite Adele song. Go."

Quinn laughs shortly beside her. "That's like choosing a child."

"Good thing you don't have any." Santana straightens up and nods. "Go."

Quinn shakes her head unknowingly before eventually settling with. "Her cover of _Make You Feel My Love_ gets me emotional every time I hear it. What about you?"

"Tie up between Rumor Has It and Someone Like You." she responds, her head titled to the side in order to read the blonde's movie titles. "But really it depends on the type of mood I'm in, so it changes pretty frequently."

Quinn just nods understandingly.

"Do you even have movies from this century?" she asks half-jokingly, shaking her head as she comes across one unfamiliar title after another. Most of them were old black and whites from like the '40's.

"You know you don't have to stay here and make small talk with me." Quinn says softly, making her look up from the dvd case in her hands. "I know it's late. I'm feeling...better and you can leave if you want. You know, get back to bed. We do have school in the morning."

Santana quirks her brow at her. "You kicking me out?"

"No."

"You want me to leave?"

Quinn doesn't respond right away but her eyes say it all. After a few seconds, she just shakes her head shyly.

Santana smirks. "Cool beans." Shoving one of Quinn's Spencer Hepburn - or whatever that chick is called - movies back into its slot, she turns around and nods toward the hallway. "So can I see your room?"

Quinn's bedroom has a color scheme of blues, whites, and purples. The walls are covered in a purple patterned wallpaper with a repetitive flower design while the bed is draped in purple and blue linens. Despite the girly colors, her room is much more grown-up and tasteful than the typical teenage girl's bedroom.

"So is your bedroom red?"

Santana scoffs at the question. Is her love of the color _that_ obvious? "No." She playfully glares at the blonde over her shoulder. "My grams wouldn't let me. Which was probably a good thing." Even she'd admit that would probably be overkill. "And Brittany said that with my clothes I'd blend into the walls and just be a floating head. And I was like fuck that, so I went with black."

"An all black room?" Quinn sits perched on the edge of her bed, her brow quirked. "Don't tell me that underneath all that red you're really a goth at heart, Santana Lopez." she teases.

Santana pulls a disgusted face, setting down one of Quinn's little knicknacks. "Ew. God no. I may be a bitch but I ain't like Satan's bitch, devil worshiping and whatnot. The walls of my room are black but there's a lot of red too. And animal print accents. The whole room is fierce. Just like me."

Done with exploring Quinn's room, Santana plops herself down on the blonde's inviting bed. She pats the open space next to her, encouraging Quinn to join her.

There's a moment's hesitation before Quinn moves around to the other side. "If you want I can turn on the heat. If you're cold."

"God no." Santana shakes her head, shifting until she was in a more comfortable position. "I'll fucking melt. This is just fine thanks."

"Are you sure?"

Santana rolls her eyes briefly. "I'm positive. Feel me." Taking the blonde's hand, she places it over her forehead.

Quinn stares at her, surprised. "How are you that hot?"

"Baby I was born this way." she says, smiling cheekily.

Until it registers that she did just in fact quote Lady Gaga.

Yeah, that's not at all lame.

Quinn playfully rolls her eyes at her, then looks at her with legitimate concern. "But seriously. You feel _too_ warm. Like you're coming down with something."

"You're one talk." she scoffs, narrowing her eyes teasingly. "Little Miss Snow Miser."

Quinn just shakes her head and reverts her attention to the ceiling. A couple seconds later, Santana vaguely hears the blonde begin to sing the actual Snow Miser song.

"_I'm Mr. White Christmas,_

_I'm Mr. Snow._

_I'm Mr. Icicle,_

_I'm Mr. Ten Below."_

Santana snorts a laugh the second she hears the familiar tune but doesn't dare interrupt because she really does enjoy Quinn's singing voice...even when she's singing old holiday cartoon songs.

"You know then that makes you Heat Miser." Quinn reminds, glancing over at her.

Santana shakes her head, because really it's so lame singing songs from cartoons made like a hundred years ago, but she'll do it anyways.

_"I'm Mr. Green Christmas,_

_I'm Mr. Sun._

_I'm Mr. Heat Blister,_

_I'm Mr. Hundred And One."_

Quinn snorts a small laugh, making Santana bust up a little toward the end. "Oh, man." Santana wipes at the corner of her eyes, because yeah she got her chuckles on a little too much. "I can't believe I just did that. So fucking lame."

"I guess that makes Brittany Mother Nature then, huh?" Quinn brings up, earning a soft chuckle from Santana. "That's not at all weird."

"No weirder than us being brothers."

"Well it's a good thing we're not."

"Yeah." Santana glances at her and two stare at each other for a moment, with Quinn regarding her rather pensively.

"Santana?"

She closes her eyes for a second, admittedly starting to feel sleepy. "Hmm?"

"Do you ever feel like..."

When Quinn trails off unsurely, Santana opens her eyes. "Like?" she gently prompts, actually curious as to what she has to say.

"I don't know." Quinn shrugs a little. "It's just sometimes when I'm around you and Brittany, I get this strange sense of deja vu."

"Don't worry, you're not crazy." she assures. "I feel that way sometimes too."

Quinn actually looks a little surprised at that. "Yeah?"

Santana nods, smiling a little. There have been times when she find herself staring at Brittany and Quinn and it's like she knows them from somewhere. Like they're familiar to her. Now she knows everyone in town was practically raised with each other, having gone to the same elementary school onto the same middle school, and then to the same high school, but what she feels is different. Like she knows them beyond that. Which doesn't make any sense...but at the same time...whatever.

It's probably nothing. She's just being weird.

"Santana?" Quinn snaps her out of her daze. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Quinn hesitates for a moment. "It's about Brittany."

Santana arches a curious eyebrow, though she has a slight inkling as to what it could be about. "Shoot."

"Have you and Brittany ever...I mean are you two..."

She figured Quinn would ask about them one of these days. They were so close it wasn't uncommon for people to wonder if there was something more there. "We've hooked up before if that's what you're asking. But no we're not dating or anything."

"So you're just friends?" Quinn has to clarify.

"Yeah." Santana nods, laughing slightly. "I mean we used to be like friends with benefits but we stopped that a while ago."

"Why?"

Santana shrugs. "I didn't feel right hooking up with someone I only saw as a friend. The only reason we starting doing it in the first place because I was sexually repressed as shit to the point where I actually considered sleeping with guys again. And well, Brittany offered to help me out." she explains simply. "She'd always wanted to see what it was like, with a girl that is, so we just got into this routine of fooling around whenever we felt like it."

Quinn was silent for a while before eventually asking, "Did feelings ever get in the way?"

"There was definitely a time where I thought I was developing feelings." Santana nods. "I didn't hate the idea of becoming something more with Brittany. So yeah, I waited for those feelings to blossom into something more, for my feelings to get strong enough so that I would want to make that change but they never did. I didn't have like some epihany where I was like '_Oh my god Brittany's it. She's the one.' _And so when I realized that was probably never gonna happen, and I was probably always just going to see her as just my best friend, I was okay with it. It wasn't like devastating or anything."

"And Brittany?"

"She loves me but she's not in love with me, you know? And I don't hold it against her or anything. Brittany's well..._Brittany_. Not one to be tied down. She loves everybody and just does whatever she feels like doing whenever she wants. She dates and I'm happy for her. She'll talk about them with me, ask for advice. And I'm not jealous or anything. As long as they treat her right I don't have a problem. Sometimes though, I don't know I just..."

"You want to have something more with someone." Quinn finishes quietly.

"Yeah." she rasps, her throat suddenly dry from all the talking. "But this town isn't exactly flooded with out and proud high school girls." Sure there was the option of going to Never Land, the one gay bar in Storybrooke, but she never had the balls to go through with it. She was always too worried that someone might spot her there and relay the sighting to her abuela. "But even if there were, I wouldn't...it's not like I'd be able to."

"Why not?" Quinn asks in confusion.

Santana huffs out a sigh. "This town is so fucking small. Everybody always knows each other's business. And my abuela..."

"She doesn't know."

Santana shakes her head quietly. "I mean sometimes it feels like she does but I've never told her outright and she's never asked." It's not like she's bringing guys home, but then again even if she was straight she probably wouldn't do that anyways so her abuela wouldn't suspect. "But the thing about my abuela, she doesn't have to say how she feels for you to know it, you know? Anyways it's pretty safe to say that if I ever came out to her she'd probably flip her shit."

"It's her generation. They were raised to believe differently. Nowadays people are more open."

Santana finds herself looking at her expectantly. "So what are you, Fabray?"

Quinn turns her gaze away from the ceiling and frowns at her. "What do you mean?"

Santana rolls her eyes. "What are you into?" she clarifies. "Guys, girls...possums?"

"I don't know."

Santana eyes her skeptically. "How do you not know?"

"Well I've never been on a date." Quinn shrugs defensively. "I've kept to myself practically my whole life. How am I supposed to know what I like if I've never even tried anything?"

"Well if a girl were to ask you out, would you say yes?"

"It depends on the girl."

"What about a guy?"

"Again it would depend on the guy. Boy or girl I'm not going to accept a date simply because he or she is attractive. I'd have to get along with them. I'd have to want to spend more time with them."

Santana nods, accepting that reasoning. "Okay."

There's a bit of a lull where in Santana feels the need to speak up before the moment passes.

"Whether or not my sexuality is obvious I'd rather this not be the latest gossip at school, so could you not...like you know...mention this to anyone?" she asks, finding Quinn's gaze again. "Not that I'm ashamed or anything. I'd just rather my grams not hear it from anybody but me."

"You and Brittany are my only friends." Quinn responds, frowning slightly. "Who would I tell? Not that I ever would."

"Thanks." Santana smiles weakly. Then sighs tiredly up at the ceiling. "I'll tell her one day, you know. When the time's right. When I'm no longer dependent on her for a roof over my head. So that way if she disowns me I won't be out on my ass."

"You really think she'd react that badly?"

"Oh I know it. My grams is one stubborn old broad. It's something I both hate and love her for."

"I'm sorry." Quinn offers quietly.

Santana just shrugs. "Eh. It is what it is."

Once again, silence passes over them.

But it isn't long before someone speaks up again. This time it's Quinn. "Do you ever feel like you don't belong here?"

"Like the wrong era?" Santana frowns.

Quinn shakes her head. "Not necessarily. I mean like, Storybrooke in general."

"All the fucking time." Santana confirms with a definite nod. "I can't wait to leave. As soon as I graduate I'm so out of here."

Quinn raises her brow in surprise. "Where will you go?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere." Santana shrugs. "I just can't take living in this town any longer. I feel so boxed up. Cut off from the world. Like I'm-"

"Suffocating?"

Santana looks over at her and smiles slightly. "Yeah."

It was uncanny how she could take the words right out of her mouth.

"Santana?" Quinn asks quietly, her voice significantly softer than before.

"Hmm?" She has to stifle a yawn. It was gettting really fucking late. Er, _early_.

"Can you do me a favor?"

Santana blinks tiredly and rolls onto her side, facing Quinn. She tucks her arm beneath her head. "What?"

"When you leave Storybrooke," Quinn stares at her for a moment before quietly requesting, "Take me with you."

Santana smiles sleepily and releases a relieved sigh.

Quinn's brow furrows curiously. "What?"

"I'm just glad you said that." she murmurs, her eyes fluttering open.

"Why?"

"Brittany and I planned on taking you with us regardless." she chuckles softly. "Now I don't have to worry about the cops coming after us on kidnapping charges."

Quinn sighs. "Cops wouldn't come after you."

"Oh no?" she smirks.

Quinn shakes her head. "I don't have any family to report me missing." she explains not at all sadly. "So if I suddenly disappeared no one would miss me."

Santana's smile fades. "That's absolute bullshit."

Quinn rolls onto her side, facing Santana, and curls up with her hands in front of her. "So you'd miss me if I was gone?" she teases tiredly, a small yawn escaping her.

"Yeah." Santana scoffs without hesitation. "Who else would I get to help me with my Calculus?"

Quinn narrows her tired eyes and slugs her arm. "Jerk."

"For a snowflake you sure pack a punch." Santana grumbles, rubbing her arm. "You know what? You've just been downgraded from snowflake status to Ritz cracker."

"That's racist."

Santana snorts. "White people are not a race. Just like white is not a color."

"But white is a color. Black is the one that's not a color."

"Now who's racist?" she teases, earning a playful glare from the sleepy blonde.

"Well at least you were kind enough to make me a name brand cracker and not just a generic one." Quinn mumbles against her pillow.

"You're welcome, Q."

—

Some hours later, Santana awakens to a pins and needles sensation in her left arm.

Groggily, she squints her eyes open enough to see that Quinn was sleeping with her back to her, and her head resting on her arm. Hence the numbness.

"Ay bitch." she mumbles, her brow furrowing. She rolls over and pushes her forehead into the blonde's shoulder. "Get your fat head off my fucking arm."

A slight groan escapes her when Quinn doesn't so much as move. "Levántate!" she all but growls, grudgingly lifting her head and moving in closer to peer over the blonde's shoulder.

Santana picks up a piece of Quinn's hair and begins tickling her nose with it. "Snowflake. Fucking wake up, bitch."

Quinn groans lightly and scrunches up her nose, half-heartedly waving away her own hair. But Santana keeps at it until the blonde rolls onto her other side.

"You're still here." Quinn murmurs, her eyes still closed.

"Yeah well I couldn't very well leave without my arm." she responds roughly, yanking her arm out from under the other girl's head. "And I wasn't about to gnaw that shit off."

"You know I never would have pegged you as the type to cuddle." Quinn breathes out softly, her eyelashes slowly fluttering open.

Santana snorts. "Cuddle? _I do not cuddle_."

"Really because this is the second time I've awoken to you spooning me." she reminds, her sleepy smile now teasing her.

"You backed up into _me_, Fabray." Santana clarifies, moving onto her side and readjusting her position. "I would have scooted over but then I would've fallen off the damn bed. And I wasn't about to sleep on the floor. Fuck that shit I'mma guest here."

Quinn shakes her head lightly before shifting back around. "One of these nights I'm going to be the big spoon." she yawns.

"Already banking on more sleepovers?" Santana scoffs, scooting forward a little. (And it's _not_ because she wants to cuddle, mind you).

"You're the one who can't seem to get enough of me."

"You are so full of yourself, Fabray."

"But you like it."

Santana snorts. "You wish."

—

After making a quick dash home (thankfully her abuela was none the wiser to her sneaking out last night), Santana meets up with Brittany at the blonde's house before school.

Brittany had an important test first period and she wanted to make sure the girl was actually on time for once.

Carrying their usual drinks, Santana walks up the stairs leading to the Pierce's second floor and then strides on through Brittany's open doorway.

"Morning, B." she greets with a bit more enthusiasm that she normally does. Despite spending most of last night talking with Quinn rather than getting some much needed zzz's, she felt really refreshed for some reason.

Her coffee was probably just really strong today.

"Hey, S." Brittany greets back distractedly. None to Santana's surprise, the blonde was hunched over in her usual spot by the window, painting away at her easel. In spite of this Santana finds herself frowning at the sight, as she was pretty sure there were twice as many new paintings scattered behind the blonde since the last time she was here.

"Jesus, Britt." Santana shakes her head as she walks over to the blonde. "Did you even sleep last night?" she asks, half-jokingly.

Brittany evades the question. "Define sleep."

Her shoulders slump in disbelief. "_Brittany_."

"It's fine. I'll catch up on all my sleep later." When Brittany finally turns to look at her, Santana sees the proof of the blonde's insomnia beneath her eyes.

"What the hell is going on with the universe?" she asks rhetorically, turning away with a shake of her head.

Seriously. First Quinn isn't sleeping. Now Brittany?

"I can't help it." Brittany says defensively, pushing herself upright so she could get ready. "Lately I've just been bombarded with visions of all these great ideas...And I tried holding off on them, you know to concentrate on school and stuff, but the the longer I held off painting them the more I felt like a balloon about to explode! I literally couldn't rest until I captured everything down on the canvas."

"Yeah but Britt you can't go without sleep." she reminds, setting down the blonde's hot chocolate on her nightstand. "It's not healthy."

"I know. I know. But like I said I can't help it..." While Brittany rummages through her closet, Santana takes a closer look at her paintings. An elaborate castle, a lone tower, a village scene, a forest landscape...

They were all so familiar to her for some reason. Like _really_ familiar.

Maybe Brittany had at one time showed her the early sketches of them? Or maybe she just got inspired by one of those many animated movies Brittany forced her to watch all the time.

Either way, whatever.

"Okay Friday we're gonna have a trinity sleepover at Quinn's." she decides suddenly, turning back around to face her blonde. "That way I can keep an eye on you two and make sure you two nutjobs actually get in some shuteye."

No more obsessive painting or two am meltdowns.

Brittany throws on one of her favorite tops and stares at her, brow quirked. "Quinn's huh?"

"Whatever that smirk is for knock it off." she warns, earning a broader grin from the blonde.

"Been hanging out there a lot have you?" Brittany waggles her eyebrows suggestively, making Santana roll her eyes.

"No."

"Uh-huh." Brittany walks around her, that lingering smile not going unnoticed by Santana, and scoops up her hot chocolate. "Did you see her last night?"

Santana chokes a little on her coffee. "Where the hell did that come from?" she wonders, glancing back at her surprised.

"Well for one you came in through that door looking ridiculously smiley and dopey." Brittany teases, looking at her through the mirror while she fixed her earrings one by one.

"So?"

"So?" Brittany rolls her eyes. "You are not a morning person, Santana. The only time I see you with a smile on your face this early is when you've done something you shouldn't have. Like put a dead rat in Rachel's locker before school or slip laxatives into Finn's morning OJ."

"You know I never pull the same prank twice."

"Exactly." Brittany nods, grabbing her brush off her dresser and spinning around. "So that cheshire cat grin of yours definitely has something to do with Quinn then."

Santana rolls her eyes again and snorts, for once not seeing the Brittany logic. "Britt that's ridiculous."

"You know if you two are seeing each other you're obligated to tell me." Brittany says, waving her hairbrush around at her pointedly. "Trinity rules."

Santana scoffs slightly and smiles. "Oh, we have rules now?"

"Yep. So are you?"

"What?" Her brow knits together as she lies down on Brittany's bed. "No, of course not. B, we're just friends. Jeez."

Brittany stops and stares at her, her brow raised. "So...you wouldn't mind if I asked her out then?" she asks carefully.

Santana bolts upright instantly, then splutters out, "Huh? You, _what?_ I mean, seriously? You wanna-"

Her brain doesn't even know how to comprehend that.

"Just messing with you San." Brittany assures, taking pity on her, but laughing nevertheless. "Quinn's all kinds of cute but she's blonde and everyone knows that all blondes are in some way related to one another. She's like my sister or something. She is _all_ yours."

Santana silently groans. "Brittany we are just friends."

"For now you are."

Santana sighs heavily, shaking her head inquiringly. "Britt, why are you pushing this?"

"I'm not pushing this." she frowns.

Santana stares at her, disbelieving. "Really? Because you seem to really want me and Quinn to get together even though we _just_ started being friends."

"I can't help it." Brittany shrugs, sitting down next to her and lacing up her sneakers. "When you're around each other, I don't know, you just seem more like yourselves. Happier in a way." She switches over to her other foot. "You guys clearly have something special. Sue me for wanting that something special to turn into something epic."

"Brittany we hardly know each other. How can we...?" Santana trails off, not even wanting to go there. Where ever _there_ was.

Brittany pushes herself upright, holding her hands up in surrender. "I don't know, Santana. I just...I know what I see. What I feel. And I feel like you two are supposed to be together."

"Okay. Fine." Santana stands up too, relenting, wanting to this conversation to end before it could possibly get any more uncomfortable. "Think that all you want. But do me a favor, will ya?"

Brittany shrugs on her backpack and nods at her. "Anything."

"Don't go and try to push us together or anything." she says, her tone firm but slightly pleading at the same time. "No Parent Trap schemes, no...just don't make things weird, alright?" She sighs, turning and shouldering her bag. "The three of us got a good thing going and I don't want things to get fucked up."

"Someone's had a change of heart." Brittany comments, almost sounding surprised. "When Quinn first came into the picture you didn't want anything to do with her and now..."

"Brittany, I just like her as a friend." she interjects, her sigh filled with mild annoyance.

Brittany grabs her things and heads out the door past her, a knowing smile on her lips. "One of these days you're gonna be eating those words."

Santana just rolls her eyes and follows her out of the room. "Yeah, _okay_."

—

From then on her day plays out ordinarily. She goes to class, _doesn't_ pay attention, insults the teachers that try to call her out on it. So aside from being a little moody, she's otherwise her same indifferent self.

Her earlier conversation with Brittany had all but been shoved to back of her mind, where she soon hoped to forget it entirely. She didn't need Brittany's absurd notions floating around in her head, making her question the actual reason why she was coming to enjoy that complicated little snowflake's company.

She just _liked_ Quinn is all. (As a friend).

Ergo she liked hanging out with her.

(Again, as a _fucking_ friend).

There was nothing more to it than that, in spite of what Brittany thinks.

Currently in between classes, Santana struts down the hallway toward her locker. On her way, she passes by one Becky Jackson.

"Outta my way, bitch!" the younger girl snaps, shoving past her.

"Can it, you demented little care bear." Santana throws back over her shoulder.

Becky was the only one at this school who was almost as much of a mega bitch as she was, which Santana didn't particularly mind.

The world needed more bitches.

Her and Becky were practically a dying breed.

Anyways.

Santana walks over to her locker and fiddles with her combination. She's just in the midst of dropping off her Lit book when she picks up on some familiar laughter coming from nearby.

Naturally she glances over her shoulder, not really thinking much of it.

And that's when she sees Quinn...with Sam Evans. The naive farm boy with the ridiculously froggy lips. A kid so gullible Santana could probably sell him the Xanax in her purse and tell him they were magic beans.

Grouper mouth was leaning by the lockers, gesturing animatedly while he spoke to Quinn. Which meant he was either in the midst of relaying one of his nerdy Avatar fan theories or demonstrating one of his god awful celebrity impressions.

Now normally Santana would have just rolled her eyes at the sight and gone back to her business (cause hey, if Quinn wants to talk to fish lips, then she can do just that) but there was something about the whole situation that did not sit right with her. It brought about a sudden twisting feeling in the pit of her stomach, one that left her feeling beyond irritated.

Maybe she'd just scarfed down that granola bar a little too fast.

Maybe Sam's cheesy grin was just really _fucking_ annoying.

Either way Santana slams her locker shut and whips out her phone. She sends a quick text to Brittany before sharply turning on her heel. She was gonna need the blonde to corroborate the lie she was about to tell.

Santana stops in front of the pair and interrupts their conversation. For a second she allows herself to be thoroughly creeped out at how alike they look.

Seriously they could pass for siblings.

Anyways.

"Hey, Q." she greets, ignoring Fish Face all together. "Sorry to interrupt." No, not really. "But Brittany had a little mishap in the art room. Apparently she got paint all in her eyes and is having some trouble washing it out. You think you can give her a hand in the girl's bathroom?"

Thankfully Quinn's too far concerned to bother questioning why Santana doesn't just go and help her herself. "Yeah, of course." She closes her locker quickly and glances back at Sam, smiling apologetically. "It was nice talking to you, Sam."

"Yeah, you too. See you in glee." he waves.

Quinn looks at her expectantly. "Coming Santana?"

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Schue wants to see me about something."

Quinn just nods, understanding. "Okay."

Santana waits until she's out of earshot before slowly rounding on the big lipped blondie in front of her. "Well, well, well, Lipsy McChapStick." she begins, her head cocked to the side. "What do you think you're doing?"

Sam stares at her blankly, both confused and intimidated. "Uh...what do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Just like I know what you're doing. And I'm here to tell you to knock it off."

Sam's brow furrows. "Knock what off?" It takes him a minute, but he eventually gets there on his own. "Wait, you mean talking to Quinn?"

Her eyes fit to the ceiling. Lord this boy was slower than a turtle. "Look, it's _obvious_ you want to get with her. Why else would you be trotting out those bad celebrity impressions." Santana raises her eyebrows at him. "I mean, McConaughey, seriously?"

Sam stares at her, slightly unnerved. "How did you even hear that-"

"Irrelevant."

Sam shifts uncomfortably before admitting, "Okay, yeah, asking Quinn out has crossed my mind. She has really pretty eyes." Sam raises his shoulders as if to say, _sue me for noticing_. "What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is you're only asking her out because you think she's hot and want to get into her pants."

"That's not true." he frowns deeply.

Frowning, by the way, makes his lips appear even guppier, if that's even possible.

"Trout mouth you're a fucking teenage boy." she sighs, rolling her eyes briefly because really, she should not have to explain this to him. "Which means your main goal in life right now is to find as many girls as you can to stick it in. And while I commend you for having the balls to start your search at the very top of the hot girl hierarchy, you obviously need a reality check."

Santana keeps her arms folded across her chest as she steps forward into his bubble. It's a stanky, cool ranch dorito smelling bubble she'd rather _not_ be in but one she'll tolerate if only to get her point across.

"There is absolutely no way in hell Quinn would ever go out with you, alright? Wanna know why?" She doesn't leave time for Sam to respond. "Well I'll tell you, Samuel. Because, for one, she's not into dating people that could very well pass for her brother. You and your kin might be a-okay with incest and enjoying a good old fashion roll in the hay with your cousins-"

"Santana, Quinn and I aren't related."

She holds up a warning finger - one she has no problem gouging him with - in front of his face. "Interrupt me one more time, Grouper Mouth. I dare you. Now where was I? Oh, yes. You might have this sick fantasy of making Quinn the Barbie to your junkless Ken but I'm here to tell you to quit wasting your breath and put it to use filling up balloons for party rental stores or something, cause you two are never gonna happen. Quinn is so far out of your fucking league that every second you waste trying to sweet talk her into going out with you is just another second you add to your already beyond pathetic life story."

Sam wisely chooses to stay silent, sensing she wasn't finished yet. And she wasn't. "Now I know this might take a bit of extra brain power that you just don't have but try and get this through that thick skull you surround with chemically treated hair and back off. You can date whomever you like, just not my homegirl."

"Or Brittany." she adds as an afterthought, nodding more to herself that time. "Yeah, stay away from Brittany too. But especially Quinn."

Santana backs up out of his face. His dorito breath was seriously making her nauseous. "Now in the words of the late great Ray Charles, _Hit the road, Jack_. Your disproportionate face is really a sight for sore eyes and frankly I should not have to be subjected to such horrifying disfigurement. I am too good a person for that shit. I am a candy stripper for Christ's sake."

"Don't you mean candy _striper?_"

"Whatever." she scoffs, shaking her head at him. "Look." Though she really fucking hates touching dudes, she places a hand on Sam's shoulder and turns him around. "I know this school isn't all that big but I'm sure one day soon you'll find a lovely girl who has a thing for nerdy dweebs who can suck the lids off pickle jars simply by inhaling. But today is not that day. And that lovely girl ain't Quinn."

She claps him on the back, _hard_, before dropping her hand altogether.

"Now as long as you take what I said to heart you and I will not have any further problems, okay? But if you don't and you try to pursue my blonde again, one of these days you will know what scalding hot coffee feels like going down your boxers. _Comprendes?_"

"_Your_ blonde?" Sam repeats, turned toward her with one brow raised.

Santana levels him her famous withering glare. "You didn't let me finish. I was going to say my blonde _friend_."

She shakes her head incredulously. "God damn trouty mouth, learn to stop interrupting girls when they're talking otherwise you're never gonna get yourself a date, let alone a girlfriend."

Santana smacks the back of his head for good measure before storming off to her next class.

And people wonder why the fuck the world has lesbians.

—

Ever since that incident with Trouty Mouth Evans, Santana was left feeling _off_. Well, actually, she started feeling off before that - it just wasn't until her talk with Farmer Tuck that things seemed to take a turn for the worse.

For one she was hot _all the time_. Like burning up, 'I'm going to fucking melt and then die if I don't fucking shed my clothes this second', hot.

For all she knew she was going through fucking menopause. (It's like thirty years early but hey, if it fucking keeps her from getting her period).

Another thing was her appetite. Every time she ate - which was like every fifteen minutes - she suddenly turned into Lauren Zizes at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Then there was the matter of her temperament. Being a Latina, yeah she's known for getting fired up relatively easily, but lately it's gotten out of hand. Even for her standards.

Seriously she's starting to lose her cool over the most random shit.

If it wasn't for Quinn and Brittany keeping her in check, she probably would have already cut a bitch. Or several.

Maybe all this was just a really bad case of sexual frustration.

True she hasn't had sex in a while but that usually never bothered her. She wasn't like a nympho or anything.

Although there was that one time had a sex dream about a _shrub_ in the shape of a person...

Whatever the reason for her out of whack self, Santana just hopes it passes soon. She's tired of acting like a fucking animal who's been caged up for too long.

Yanking the auditorium door open with probably more force than necessary, Santana strides down the aisle way toward the stage.

To her dismay she's earlier than she initially realized. Only four people were there waiting, but at least one of those people was Brittany.

"Hey, San." the blonde greets, as she climbs up the steps leading to the stage.

"Hey, B." she greets back less enthusiastically, depositing her gym bag on the floor before plopping herself down next to it.

She really wasn't looking forward to the next hour and a half. Despite the name, she had a feeling these glee club 'booty camp' sessions were gonna be less focused on poppin' and lockin' and more on the jazz hands.

"How was your history test?"

Santana extends her legs in front of her to stretch. "Alright." she shrugs, not really in the mood to talk. "I know I at least passed."

The auditorium doors open again and what sounds like the rest of the club begins trickling in. Santana doesn't pay them any attention though, just keeps stretching out her arms and legs. Cause if she fucking pulls something doing something stupid like a jazz square, she might just maul someone.

"Hey Quinn!" she hears Brittany greet cheerfully.

Naturally Santana lifts her gaze to also greet their friend, of course not as bubbly, but the second she does she instantly wishes she hadn't.

Because, good god. All she sees is legs.

Really long, surprisingly toned, legs.

With the way Santana felt herself gawking, you'd think she'd never seen a girl's bare legs before. She, of course, _has_ seen bare legs and many a pair at that - just not Quinn's.

It being winter, the snowflake usually wore tights or leggings under her skirts and dresses. But not today, not for rehearsal.

As a result, seeing them bare for the first time was like a fucking revelation. Choir singing and all.

"Santana?"

Santana blinks out of her daze to find Quinn staring down at her curiously. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine." she says quickly, hastily pushing herself upright. She's definitely better off without those gams in her direct line of view.

"Alright, guys!" Thankfully Mr. Schue comes onto the stage in that moment and claps his hands together to start things, before Quinn can comment on her weird behavior.

For the next hour, while Mr. Schuester teaches them what is basically toddler level choreography, Santana finds herself helplessly ogling the blonde (who had the audacity to fucking choose to stand in front of her).

Most of the time she isn't sure where her eyes wanted to linger most. On the legs themselves or the tennis skirt from which they sprouted from.

Either way, God bless the perv who invented skirts. God _fucking_ bless.

Wait.

What is she doing?

She was giving Puckerman a run for horndog of the millennium right now, that's what.

And all because of _Quinn_.

Gah. Santana pulls a face like she just caught a whiff of Karofsky's jock strap.

Evidently she was a lot more sexually repressed than she thought.

Santana shakes her head, silently trying to will away over an hour's worth of less than appropriate thoughts. _Alright, Lopez. Get it together. Stop thinking with your lady business_. _You are above that shit._

She just has to think of something non-sexy. Yeah, that's it.

Santana looks around at their sad group of misfits and locks eyes on one Finn Hudson.

Perfect.

_Just think of Finnocence naked. Yeah. Naked and jumping up and down so those man titties start flapping up and down like Dumbo's ears._

Oh god, too far.

Now she just might hurl.

Where's Berry? If she's gotta do a Linda Blair impression it might as well be all over her.

"Doing okay, Santana?" Mr. Schue calls from downstage, walking along the front row to ensure everyone was doing the current move correctly.

Santana swallows hard and nods. "Fine."

Then Quinn does a double pirouette in front of her, causing her skirt to fly up a little.

_Not fine_, she meant to say. _I am fucking not fine._

Shaking her head, Santana sharply turns on her heel and stalks over to the piano. She promptly swipes up her hoodie off her gym bag, then returns to her spot and nudges Brittany.

Brittany stops what she's doing long enough to look over at her. "What?"

Santana merely throws her hoodie at her, then subtly indicates to Quinn with a nod of her head.

It takes a couple seconds but eventually Brittany cottons on.

Wordlessly Brittany goes up to the unsuspecting Quinn and tries to wrap her hoodie around her waist, making the shorter blonde squeak in surprise.

Quinn whips around, startled. "Brittany, what are you doing?"

Brittany nods over at Santana. "Santana thinks you should cover up."

_Damnit, Brittany._

Quinn regards her curiously, her brow furrowed and hands resting on her hips. "What, why?"

"Why?" Santana scoffs rather loudly. "Fabray one of your ovaries just winked at me. Ya needs to cover all that up before before you start a pep rally in every guy's pants."

Quinn stares at her incredulously. "Santana you're ridiculous. I know for a fact this skirt covers up everything that it should. And besides I have shorts underneath."

Regardless of its length, which admittedly was not _that_ short, Quinn's skirt definitely did its job of accentuating those lovely lady legs, not to mention highlighting that cute little ass Santana never realized she had going for her.

And there she goes again.

Damn hormones.

"For fuck's sake, Fabray." Santana snatches her hoodie from Brittany and throws it at the other blonde. "Just cover up. If I have to spend another second being visually assaulted by your mediocrity I'm going to puke. And then everyone here is going to puke and it's gonna get really fucking stinky and slippery and gross."

Quinn rolls her eyes but acquiesces nonetheless and ties her hoodie around her waist. "There, Santana." Quinn lifts her gaze expectantly. "Happy now?"

God damnit. Somehow seeing her hoodie wrapped around her hips just made things worse.

—

Santana ends up leaving booty camp early, unable to think straight - heh - let alone focus on choreography when Quinn was fucking dancing around, looking well...like she was.

So she opts for a run instead, taking off as soon as she was outside and not stopping until she felt some semblance of sanity return to her.

Once she's sure 'booty camp' was long over, Santana heads over to Brittany's house. She enters as usual, jogging up the stairs before delivering a quick knock to the blonde's bedroom door, then simply letting herself in.

"Hey."

A freshly showered Brittany lifts her head from the book in her lap. "Hey you." she greets back, smiling brightly.

Now Santana kind of feels bad for intruding on the one time Brittany was actually taking the time out to study.

"Are you okay?" Brittany asks, as she walks further into her room. "You kind of just bolted out of booty camp. We were all kinds of worried. I covered for you though. Said you had diarrhea."

Santana stares at her in disbelief.

"Kidding." she chuckles, closing her textbook and setting it aside. "I just said you haven't been feeling well."

"I haven't." Santana sighs, turning and flopping face first on the blonde's bed. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Britt. I feel so out of whack."

And she'd felt like a goddamn animal in heat back in the auditorium.

"Yeah, you are." Brittany says lightly, shimmying down the bed to join her. "We must have a full moon coming up soon." She rolls onto her side and props her head up with one arm. "Those always tend to make people go a little loopy."

"I don't see you going nutsy cuckoo." Santana says into the mattress.

"By 'people' I meant _you_, S." she laughs. "I've noticed you have a tendency to get particularly moody around then, though this time it's like ten time worse. Can't imagine why."

"I'm glad this amuses you." she grumbles, lifting her head only to throw her a glare.

Brittany merely sticks her tongue out at her. "If the roles were reversed you'd be getting your chuckles on too." she informs her knowingly. "How Quinn didn't once realize how badly you were drooling over her is beyond me. And people say I'm oblivious."

"Brittany." she whines. "It's not funny."

Brittany's laughter subsides. "I know." She reaches out and begins stroking Santana's hair comfortingly. "You can't help wanting to get your mack on with Quinn."

"What?" Santana lifts her head, then rolls over completely. "I don't - that's not even...Ew."

"Santana." Brittany shoots her one of _those_ looks. "Please. Blind space aliens from Mars could see that you want up on that."

"Brittany we've been over this, I _don't_ like her like that." she insists, prompting Brittany to quirk her brow.

"Oh but you do Santana."

"I don't want her, Brittany." she exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air. "Shit. I'm just...I dunno. Frustrated?"

"Horny, you mean."

Santana drops her arms over her face, silently groaning. "Yeah, I guess. But in my defense it has been a while."

"Well if that's all, then let's take care of that." Brittany sits upright then, without warning, straddles Santana.

"Woah, Britt." Santana bolts upright, shaking her head. "That's not - I don't. It wouldn't feel right." she eventually manages out, after first fumbling with her words.

"_Exactly_." Brittany pushes at her nose, then promptly rolls over off her. Which just leaves Santana very confused. "It wouldn't feel right because you have feelings for Quinn."

Santana head falls back against the mattress. _For fuck's sake, Brittany._ "I do not!"

"Oh no?" she challenges, now standing with her hands on her hips. "Because your recent behavior says otherwise."

Santana props herself up by her elbows, her eyes narrowed. "Bullshit."

Brittany rolls her eyes briefly. "Come on, Santana. First day of glee when Puck tried to put the moves on Quinn, you all but castrated him. And what about that other day? With Sam? Hmm? I had to rub paint in my eyes just so you could keep the lie you told in order to get her away from Sam. Then, if I'm not mistaken, you gave him a very uncalled for verbal smack down."

"So?"

"So?" Brittany scoffs, laughing slightly. "You basically told him to stay away from _your girl_."

"Homegirl, Brittany. Homegirl! Total difference." she exclaims, not at all mortified. "And how did you even know about that? You weren't even there."

"I have my sources." Brittany dismisses vaguely. "Anyways. What about poor Finn today? He just _smiled_ at her and now he's number one on your hit list."

"Is not." She scoffs, then adds. "Mr. Schue is."

It's what he gets for calling her out during booty camp.

"Uh huh." Out of thin air, Brittany waves around said hit list, then opens and shows it to her.

Where Finn's name, is in fact, at the very top. Added above the previous name, Rachel Berry.

Next to his name is a very creative little Frankenteen drawing with his eyes crossed out and a cartoon Santana wearing a pimpin' fedora and pumping him full of lead with her tommy gun.

"You have no proof I drew that."

Then, after a second, she takes back the list. "And that needs to be updated."

"My point is you've been acting extremely possessive of her. Not to mention really jealous."

"Protective, Brittany." she corrects, sitting upright. "And I'm not jealous. I'm just looking out for her - the same way I do for you! If any of those losers tried going after you I'd be up in their face the exact same way. And you know those guys just have one thing on their mind." She crosses her arms defensively. "Someone's gotta look out for her."

"I think Quinn is quite capable of handling herself, Santana. She doesn't need a protector."

"Fine!" She throws her hands up, exasperated. "If she wants to hook up with Fuckerman or Frankenteen or Froggy lips, or hell all three of them at once, she can go right on ahead. But if she gets pregnant or an STD, she better not come crying to me."

Brittany just shakes her head at her. "You're acting very childish."

"Am not." she scoffs.

"Are too."

Brittany raises her brow. "_Santana_."

"Brittany." she returns in the same tone, raising her brow also.

"You're impossible." the blonde huffs.

Santana just smirks. "Tell me something I don't know."

"Oh you." Brittany yanks her up by her arm and pushes her toward the bathroom. "Go take a shower, you smell like a dog."

Santana glares at her over her shoulder. "I resent that remark."

"Take a nice cold shower." Brittany proceeds to playfully order her around. "With those looks you were giving Quinn at booty camp I'd say you definitely need it."

"Bite me, Pierce."

Brittany just laughs. "Save that sweet talk for your _other_ blonde."

—

On Saturdays, Santana works at Abuela's through the afternoon while Brittany volunteers at the local pet shelter. They usually got off at the same time but today Santana's abuela told her to end her shift early. Which, while usually unheard of, was not exactly surprising these days since Santana hasn't been playing the part of hospitable waitress like she should.

Not that she ever, really. Only difference was now when a customer was giving her attitude, she'd just tell them to fuck off and go do something else.

Anyways, Santana takes the opportunity to get in another quick run before meeting up with Brittany to go to Quinn's later. She knows she's been running _a lot, _and should probably dial it back a notch, but she can't bring herself to resist every time she gets the urge.

She's casually jogging through the park when her phone starts to ring. Without stopping, Santana pulls her phone out of her bra and answers the call.

"Hey. What's up?"

"Meet me at the pet shelter. I've got a big surprise."

Uh oh. Those words never spelled good things for her. "Tell me you're not bringing home another cat, Britt."

"Nope. Something better." Brittany thrills.

"_Brittany_."

"Just hurry up and get your butt over here. I'll do this without you if I have to."

Santana doesn't know what that means and frankly she's not sure if she _wants_ to know.

She hangs up without another word and turns back around, running in the direction of the pet shelter.

When she gets there some five minutes later, she says a quick hello to the hipster couple who ran the place, then skirts around their annoying little dalmatian pups that were like everywhere as she heads into the back room where Brittany usually was.

"Look what I got." Brittany sing-songs from behind her, catching her off-guard.

Next thing she knows she's being presented with a big fluffy white puppy that looked more like a bear than a dog.

"Britt, there's no way your parents are going to let you keep him."

Brittany shakes her head. "He's not for me, silly."

Santana doesn't get it. "You know I hate dogs."

"He's not for you either. He's for Quinn. His name is Marshmallow. Isn't he adorable?"

Santana wrinkles her nose distastefully. "He smells."

Brittany rolls her eyes briefly. "You say that about all animals."

"Because it's true."

"He does not smell. I personally gave him a bath myself. He smells like strawberries." Brittany leans in and buries her face into his fur, inhaling deeply. She then offers the puppy to Santana. "See?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure." Santana politely declines a sniff.

"Anyways. What do you think?" she asks expectantly. "Quinn will just love him, won't she? She has to."

Santana shakes her head at her, still very, very confused. "Brittany what is this all about? Why are giving Quinn a dog?"

"He's gonna be an early birthday present for her." Brittany explains, readjusting her grip on the now squirming puppy. "She's a winter solstice baby you know."

No she did not know that. Which begs the question, how the hell did Britt? "How do you know that?"

Brittany shrugs, frowning slightly. "I don't remember. I just do."

"So, what? Quinn told you she wants a dog for her birthday?"

Brittany looks away, smiling sheepishly. "Well no. Not exactly."

Her shoulders slump. "Brittany." she sighs.

"What? He's perfect. He's potty trained and everything. And he can keep Quinn company."

"I thought that's what we were for." Santana mutters under her breath.

"Jealous, San?" Brittany smirks.

She doesn't even bother dignifying that with a response. "What if she's allergic?" she asks instead. "Britt for all you know she doesn't even like dogs."

Brittany looks at her like she's crazy. "How can someone not like dogs?" She cups Marshmallow's cheek and smushes it against her cheek. "Look at this little face. Absolutely adorable."

Santana is unimpressed. Even more so when the dog starts licking Brittany's face. "He probably spent the entire day licking his junk, you know that right?"

Brittany's smile falters. "Santana quit being such a buzzkill, would you?" she pleads.

"Brittany." she sighs again, trying to get the girl to see reason. "You can't just drop a dog on her."

Brittany stares at her pleadingly, eyes all big and sad, her lips drawn together in a pout. "Please, Santana? He really needs a loving home and I know Quinn will just love him."

Santana knows she'll come to regret this later, but goddamn, how the fuck can she refuse Brittany when she's looking at her like _that?_

—

About an hour later, Santana finds herself at Quinn's door carrying a giant ass bag of dog food that probably weighed more than she did.

"If she doesn't want the dog, Britt, he's going back. No exceptions." she reminds while they wait for Quinn to answer the door. "You aren't going to force her to keep him."

"I won't have to." Brittany says smugly, her chin raised confidently.

When Quinn's door finally opens, Brittany lifts Marshmallow like he was fucking Simba from The Lion King. "Surprise!"

Naturally Quinn looks really lost. "What's...going on?"

"I am really fucking sorry about this." Santana offers at the same time Brittany presents her with Marshmallow. "For you, pretty girl."

Quinn opens her mouth to speak but no words come out at first. "But...why?"

"He's your birthday present." Brittany explains, smiling brightly when Quinn tentatively reaches out to pet Marshmallow.

"But my birthday's not for weeks."

"He's your _unbirthday_ present then." Brittany declares happily. "And don't worry he's already potty trained and everything. He's really a good boy. Very obedient."

"Sounds too good to be true." Santana mutters quietly. But not quietly enough.

Quinn chuckles lightly when Brittany hands Marshmallow to her, the pup quite eager to properly acquaint himself with her.

"Do you not like dogs?" she guesses, looking over at Santana while Marshmallow proceeds to lick her face.

"More like competition." Brittany snickers under her breath, prompting Santana to send a death glare her way.

"For your information, I happen to be allergic."

Brittany snorts outright, exchanging a knowing sidelong glance with her. "You are not Santana."

"Are too."

Quinn shakes her head at them both and politely interrupts the interaction. "Well thank you, Brittany...and Santana for the lovely present." She glances at them meaningfully. "I've never had a dog before but I assure you he's in good hands."

"You know you don't have to keep him." Santana feels the need to clarify. "I know I sure as hell wouldn't."

That earns her a sharp nudge in the ribs from Brittany.

Quinn just rolls her eyes and backs up, encouraging them both to come in.

"I'm guessing we're ordering food later?" she says, seeing that while they'd brought over their overnight bags, they hadn't brought any food as originally planned.

"Let's just eat the dog." Santana suggests, kicking the door closed behind her. "I hear they taste like chicken anyways."

—

Santana fucking hates dogs.

Really, she does.

Hates them with a fucking passion.

And to a lesser extent, hates herself for being so goddamn wrapped around Brittany's finger.

Whatever. Point is girl's night would have been a hell of a lot more enjoyable if it hadn't been for that stupid fleabag constantly running about, demanding their undivided attention. He's the reason she spends half the night scheming, trying to figure out how to get him out of the picture before Quinn and Brittany can properly get attached.

The best she could come up with was dropping him off on the doorstep of that crazy lady with the salt and pepper hair - the one who always wore the fur coats.

Rumor had it she made those fur coats herself. Skinned the animals and everything...

Anyways.

After the caffeine buzz from all the soda wore out and the tv was no longer worth watching, the three of them had headed over to Quinn's room for bed.

Marshmallow had tried to join them but Santana shut his furry ass out. No way was she fucking sleeping with a goddamn polar bear dog that probably shed like a mofo.

When Santana gets into bed with her blondes, she's so tired she actually falls under the impression that she just might get to sleep through the whole night uninterrupted.

But, of course, her body has other plans, choosing to later wake at who the fuck knows o' clock in the morning for no apparent reason other than what she assumes is the universe conspiring to drive her fucking _loca_.

When her consciousness registers, Santana groans silently and pushes her head back against her pillow. She stays there for a moment, desperately willing herself to return to sleep. Then, when it becomes clear _that_ isn't going to work, shifts to her side to see if that would help things.

Before her drowsy eyes can completely close, she breathes out a small sigh, pleased to find Quinn facing her.

But what doesn't please her is the sight _behind_ Quinn, where Brittany was effectively spooning the blonde.

Santana lifts her head from her pillow, suddenly much more awake than before.

A deep set frown pulls across her mouth. Then, before her groggy brain can even begin to question why seeing them like that is suddenly _not_ okay with her, Santana finds herself plotting how to best break up this unauthorized cuddlefest without either of them waking up.

_Alright, Lopez_.

Santana takes a second to wipe the drool from the corner of her mouth.

_Time for stealth mode_.

Eyeing them both carefully, Santana scoots herself closer to the pair with caution. Then, as gently as she can, removes Brittany's arm from around Quinn. When Brittany unconsciously pulls back and curls her arm up against her chest, Santana releases a quiet breath.

Phew.

Santana rolls onto her back again and sinks back into the mattress, a content sigh escaping her.

Quinn shifts a little at the movement, making Santana tense up, thinking she'd woken her up. But Quinn doesn't awaken, just inches closer to her and curls into her body.

Santana figures it's just because she's warm.

Whatever.

Sighing again, Santana gently moves her arm so it was draped around Quinn instead and allows her eyes to flutter close.

Five seconds later though, her eyes fly open again in realization.

God damnit.

Snapping her eyes shut, Santana silently shakes her head and stubbornly chants a mantra to herself.

_I am the master of my own bladder._

_I am the master of my own bladder._

_I am the master of my own god damn motherfucking bladder. _

Shit.

Feeling that she was definitely not gonna win this round, Santana grudgingly slips out of bed and hurriedly tiptoes across the floor to the bathroom.

When she finishes her business a few moments later, she gently closes the bathroom door behind her and scurries back to the bed. She stops short, however, when she sees that Brittany had snuggled back up to her blonde.

Santana's eyes widen in disbelief. What the-?

"_Sharing is caring_, San." Brittany reminds softly, with a sleepy grin, apparently sensing her eyes on them.

"Fuck that shit." she scoffs quietly.

Stalking around to the other side of the bed, Santana snaps her fingers at her best friend and points behind her. "Levántate!"

Brittany just smiles and shakes her head defiantly, curling into Quinn further. "No way. She's like the best pillow ever. All soft and cuddly." She sighs dreamily, burrowing herself into the blonde's back. "Like a little baby penguin."

"_Brittany_." Santana all but growls, nudging the girl.

But the blonde pays her no attention. "I shall call her squishy and she shall be mine and she shall be my squishy."

"Imma squish your ass if you don't back on up." Santana threatens in hushed tone, in no fucking mood for games. She wants to get her sleep on.

"I'll give her back if you admit it."

"Admit what?" she hisses impatiently, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Admit you want to cuddle with her." Brittany mumbles, already well on her way back to dreamland.

Santana pulls back with an indignant scoff. "But I don't!"

"Fine. Don't admit it." Brittany smiles smugly, her eyes still pleasantly closed. "More Quinn for me."

Santana's jaw tightens. "God damnit, Britt." she swears, too fucking tired for this shit. "I wants to get ma cuddles on. And I wants to get them on _now_."

Santana punctuates her emphasis with a hard jab to the blonde's side. "There. Now _move_."

Though she initially pouts at the gesture, a triumphant smile spreads across Brittany's face. "She's all yours buddy." she sighs, relinquishing her hold on her sleeping blonde friend.

Santana's scowl just deepens as she returns to her side of the bed. She scoots right back next to Quinn, then wraps her arms around her like before.

Not because she _wants_ to, of course.

She's just helping the snowflake out, making sure she gets a good night's sleep and whatnot.

Although, now that Brittany mentioned it, girlie _was_ all kinds of penguin soft.

Over Quinn's head, Santana makes sure to remind Brittany. "You ever tell her about this and I'll send Lord Tubbington to Guatemala." she warns. "They'll make a meal outta him there."

Brittany just rolls onto her other side. "_Goodnight_, Santana."

—

Unbelievable.

No less than an hour passes before Santana finds herself wide awake again. But this time it's not because of weird dreams, or an overactive bladder for that matter.

This time it's because of her goddamn stomach. Which apparently needed more sustenance by the way it was gettin' its growls on.

_Fucking a-_

Santana slips out of bed once again and heads on into the kitchen. When she flicks on the lights, she instantly recoils, her eyes narrowing against the sudden brightness. Marshmallow comes over from the living room to see what she was up to but she pays him no attention.

She decides to raid Quinn's cabinets first but all she can find is a bunch of healthy crap she'd never in her fucking life touch, let alone eat.

Walking over to the refrigerator, Santana yanks open the door and smiles broadly when she's met with the sight of their leftover pizza right in front of her.

_Hello, gorgeous_.

Wait.

What?

That did not just happen.

Santana exhales deeply and shakes her head, pulling out the two pizza boxes. What glee club was fucking doing to her, man.

"Stupid Berry." she grumbles under her breath, closing the refrigerator door with her foot. "And her stupid Yentl obsession."

"Santana?"

Santana starts a little, not expecting Quinn to materialize out of thin air like that.

"You okay?" the blonde yawns, walking her and her serious case of bedhead over to the counter.

"Got hungry." Santana shrugs, waiting by the microwave for her food to heat.

"You trying to eat me out of a house and home, Santana?" Quinn jokes, rubbing her eye tiredly as she notes the pizza boxes she'd taken out.

"Bitch I paid for this pizza."

"How can you even be hungry after all that you've already eaten today?" Quinn wonders, briefly bending down to pet Marshmallow. "Are you purposefully trying to clog your arteries?"

Santana rolls her eyes and stacks her two pizza slices on top of each other. "It's one freaking slice."

"Santana, that's _two_."

"Not when you eat it like this." she denies, meanwhile taking a huge ass bite. "The body doesn't know."

Quinn just rolls her eyes and sits down across from her.

Santana swallows her mouthful and glances back at her. "So what are you doing up?"

"Heard you out here." Quinn responds off-handedly. "While I admit I sleep more soundly when I have you and Brittany with me, it doesn't really take much to wake me up at night."

"Oh."

It only takes one glimpse of that perfectly quirked brow and that impish little twinkle in her eyes, for Santana to figure it out what the blonde was trying to get at.

"I must say Santana you're doing wonders for my ego."

That remark just confirms it.

God damnit.

"Alright." Santana doesn't need her to spell it out for her anymore than that. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough."

Santana just rolls her eyes at that vaguer than vague response.

"And let me just say that never in my life would I have ever imagined having two best friends who fight over who gets to cuddle with me." Quinn says, barely able to keep the chuckle out of her voice.

_Bitch, please_. "We were not fighting over you." she scoffs, shaking her head at the very idea.

Honestly.

Quinn quirks her brow again, disbelieving. "Sounded like you were."

"Yeah well you heard wrong." Santana retorts, grabbing two more pizza slices and walking over to the microwave again. "You must've still been dreaming."

Quinn shakes her head at her incredulously, scoffing lightly. "You're really not gonna admit it, are you?"

"Bitch I've got nothing to admit to."

Sighing, Quinn slides off the counter stool, still shaking her head. "Okay, Santana." she offers teasingly. She's just about head on back to bed when she stops suddenly.

"Before you return to bed, please brush your teeth again." Quinn tells her over her shoulder. "I don't want you and your nasty pizza breath breathing down my neck."

"I'll brush my teeth if I feel like it, Fabray." Santana scoffs, her eyes playfully narrowed. "Ain't nobody tell Santana Lopez what to do."

—

After she's had her fill of pizza, Santana walks back into the bedroom where Quinn and Brittany were fast asleep (but first makes sure that little snot nosed pup doesn't try to sneak in).

As she walks around to Quinn's side of the bed, a brilliant idea comes to her.

This time around Santana doesn't try to keep her voice down. "Hey, Fabray."

She pounces on the girl without hesitation, the motion startling both blondes. "Heyyyy, Fabrayyyy." she says again, leaning in closer and blowing her lovely pepperoni and sausage breath all over Quinn's face.

"God damnit - Santana!"

Moving at lightning speed, Quinn somehow manages to flip them around and shove Santana back into the mattress.

Who knew the girl was part jungle cat.

Quinn's response was so fucking unexpected that Santana can't help but laugh hysterically- even when the snowflake begins smothering her with her pillow.

Brittany, still half-asleep despite all the commotion, barely lifts her head off her pillow when she gives them her half-hearted order to "Stop the violence".

—

Next thing Santana knows, she's out in the hallway, padding across the wooden floor with a pillow in one hand and a blanket in the other.

"I didn't want to sleep in there anyways." she grumbles to herself, still shaking her head because _how dare Quinn throw her out!_ "Bitch crowding me, gettin' all up in my business, drooling on me. No wonder I can't get to sleep."

Santana walks over to living room sofa, aka her new sleeping quarters, and plops herself down on the cushions, arms folded across her chest.

Marshmallow, who'd been sleeping comfortably in his bed by the fireplace, gets up when he hears her come in and automatically goes over to her.

"This is all your fucking fault." she glares at him, shoving her pillow at one end of the sofa before lying down.

Marshmallow whimpers a little and stamps his paws, looking a lot like he wanted to get up on the sofa with her.

Oh hell no.

Santana bolts upright. "Don't even try it, _perro_." she warns, holding up a stern finger. "Just go back to your little bed over there. Go on." she shoos.

Surprisingly the weird bear-dog does as she says and returns to his bed. But not before shooting her _one really_ fucking sad look.

"Nice try, dog." she taunts, shifting around to get comfortable. "But Santana Lopez is way too hardcore to fall for them puppy eyes."

Just then they both pick up on what sounds like Quinn's bedroom door being opened.

Santana smiles triumphantly when she hears said girl's footsteps coming closer. She knew Fabray couldn't stay mad at her.

Sure she was a bitch but she was an _adorable_ bitch.

'Sides making her sleep out here was just plain mean.

Santana's smile falters, however, when Quinn walks right past her without so much as glancing in her direction.

...and picks up Marshmallow instead.

"Goodnight, Santana." Quinn says, casually passing her while carrying Marshmallow back with her to the bedroom.

Santana watches her go, stunned. And fucking _pissed_.

"That is some fucked up shit, Fabray!" she calls after the blonde, whipping around.

She launches her pillow at Quinn, aiming for the back of her head, but it misses her entirely.

"No me gusta!"

* * *

**AN: Definitely volleyed back and forth with choosing the glee kid's counterparts - did anyone actually figure them out? Lol. I don't blame you if you didn't. Some were pretty vague. For some I just gave you like _one_ keyword. Sorry!  
**

**I will say while some of their alter egos have been introduced on OUAT already, that doesn't mean I'll be following how the show handled them completely. Although for some their plot lines might be similar at first.**

**Also some of the glee characters might end up being more than one fairytale character, just like OUAT sometimes does. In this story for example I've made it clear that Santana's not only Little Red Riding Hood but also hinted that she was also the (platonic) Flynn Rider to Brittany's Rapunzel from Tangled. If you watch the show, you'll understand, if not you'll get it soon.**

**I'm probably getting ahead of myself, and probably confusing you all, but a few characters' identities be revealed in the next chapter as we return to the Enchanted Forest, so yeah... hopefully that will help to clear things up. **

**Hopefully you'll stay tuned, and as always your reviews are greatly appreciated! I really do love hearing your thoughts.  
**

**Until next time!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Well if your goal was to inflate my ego 10000%, you succeeded. Seriously. You guys. The influx of love this story's gotten is mind blowing.**

**I apologize for the long wait, I haven't had much time to write and it seemed like every time I _did_ find time to write, all I ended up with was Quinntana relationship fluff. Sure I'll be able to use it for later chapters but right now, not so much...**

**In other news I've fallen deeper into the Quinntana vortex. Like for real. I've got ideas for at least half a dozen oneshots just begging to be explored. Sadly though I won't be getting to those any time soon...or at least not until spring break.  
**

**Anyways, fingers crossed this chapter is satisfactory enough. We're back in the Enchanted Forest for this one. If you know your OUAT, some stuff might be familiar, if not...then it won't. lol. Also there's an italicized portion in here - that's a flashback.**

**Read. enjoy. review!**

* * *

"Are you sure you and Anna are _actual_ sisters?"

It's mid-afternoon when Red lets herself into into Elsa's study. She strides through the doorway without hesitation, not bothering to think twice about whether or not it's okay to drop in on her unannounced.

She's done this enough times already to know that it is. Blondie's probably _way_ used to her barging in on by now.

Or at least she should be.

"Because I'm pretty sure Rapunzel and Anna were separated at birth." she continues on, closing the door behind her with her foot. "I mean, those two are _scary_ alike."

Like twins almost. It was goddamn freaky.

"Yes well they are related." Elsa responds distractedly, taking her ink pen and elegantly signing her name to whatever document she had before her. She lifts her gaze once she's done, and fixates Red with a slightly quirked brow. "And you know, Red, most people have the decency to knock before entering a person's private space."

She just stares and emits an unapologetic snort. "Blondie you should know by now that I am not 'most' people."

Red walks over, then when she's close enough, leans forward to peer over the side of Elsa's mahogany desk. "So what's crackalakin'? Signing away the rights to your firstborn child in exchange for world domination?"

Elsa stares at her quizzically. "Excuse me?"

Red rolls her eyes. "Relax, snowflake." she scoffs, cracking an unwitting smile. "It's called a joke."

"Right. A joke."

Blinking, Elsa turns away and pulls a new document off the top of the pile stacked on her left.

Red hoists herself up to sit on the edge of her desk. "So what have I done to deserve your company at this hour, Red?" Elsa inquires, noticing this out of her peripheral vision.

"Anna and Rapunzel are out feeding the ducks in the gardens." she answers with a shrug, leaning back casually. "Figured I come bug you instead."

Elsa sighs. "I apologize Arendelle is not more exciting." she says, offering a small sympathetic smile. "You must be bored out of your mind already."

"Not necessarily." Red murmurs, idly tracing invisible patterns into the wood with her fingertips. "I mean, the company's not _that_ terrible." Elsa smiles faintly at this, making her smirk. "Better than back home. At least here no one thinks I'm a freak."

Regardless of her words, she can tell Elsa still feels bad. "Look," Red watches curiously as the young queen's back shifts along with her new found resolve. "Just let me finish up these last notices and I can -"

"Don't fret on my account, Blondie." she cuts in reassuringly, though smiling appreciatively. "Just do what you need to do and don't mind me. I don't need to be constantly entertained."

Elsa seems to disagree. "But you're my guest."

"Doesn't mean you need to suffocate me." she says jokingly, coming around the side to get a better look of Elsa's bookcase. She glances back at the blonde, only to be met with affronted hazel eyes. "_Kidding_." she stresses with another short laugh. She shakes her head slightly, because really Blondie needed to learn how to lighten up.

Though she nods her head, Elsa doesn't say anything more, opting instead to return to her administrative work. But Red doesn't miss the way she turns away with tightly pressed lips, a clear indication of the chastisement undoubtedly running through her head.

Red really wished she wasn't so hard on herself.

Sighing quietly, she reverts her attention to the blonde's bookcase. She idly browses through it, having never really cared enough to do so before, and instantly scrunches her nose slightly at the duller than dull titles she's met with.

Considering she can't even get through reading the cover without nodding off like an old geezer, Red's pretty sure she won't be asking to borrow from Elsa's collection any time soon.

"Have you actually read any of these books?" she inquires, eyeing the blonde somewhat skeptically. "Or are they just for show?"

Red peers inside one just so see if it's actually like, a coloring book on the inside.

It's not, unfortunately.

"I've read all of them at least three times." Elsa confirms.

Though a little disappointed with that totally bookwormish response, Red's not surprised. Politics, geography, history...all subjects queens needed to well versed in, she guessed.

"Wait." Red stops suddenly, in the midst of putting a book back when she hones in a title she was actually familiar with. "You read Flynn Rider too?" Scoffing her surprise, she pulls out the seemingly out of place book from the shelf for a closer look.

Flynn Rider and his swashbuckling tales of adventure were some of the few stories she actually enjoyed reading growing up.

"That's Anna's." Elsa replies after a moment, lifting her head. "She's always leaving her things around here. Just the other day I found a handful of melted chocolates in one of my desk drawers." she sighs, rolling her eyes albeit in a fond way.

Amused, Red turns toward her, book still in hand. "Anna was always trying to replicate his heroics growing up." Elsa continues. "Especially when it came to her attempts to get into my bedroom so I wouldn't ignore her anymore."

Red smiles at the admission. It didn't take as much for Elsa to open up as much as it used to. Granted the girl was still very much reserved in her demeanor, but nowadays she was a little more okay with voluntarily talking about her life with Red.

"One time she tried to swing in through my window." Elsa elaborates, smiling a little at the memory. "There I was in the midst of my studies when my then eight year-old sister came hurtling at my window, intent on crashing through it like Flynn Rider would, only to smack right into the glass and slide down it like a snail."

Red can't help but laugh out loud, _so_ able to picture a young Anna doing that. Hell she could easily picture her now attempting a stupid stunt like that.

Encouraged by her reaction, Elsa offers up another anecdote. "Then there was the time she tried to ram my door down with a homemade battering ram. She'd hopped on her bicycle and took off full speed...only to end up going down the stairs due to her lack of stability from steering with one hand." She hadn't witnessed the incident herself of course, but had certainly heard the commotion from behind her bedroom door. "She nearly ran down one of the servants. Or so says Kai."

Red shakes her head, chuckling ruefully. "Poor kid."

"Those weren't even the least egregious stunts she's ever pulled." Elsa shakes her head to herself, releasing a mildly frustrated breath. The more she thinks back on it, the less amusement she finds in her sister's antics. "Honestly how that girl is even standing today. So careless. Completely disregards her own well-being."

"You can't really blame her though." Red says lightly in Anna's defense. "All she wanted was her big sister back."

"I shut her out for her own protection." Elsa is quick to retort. "It's not like I enjoyed doing it."

"I know that." she scoffs, frowning at the sharp defensive eyes she's met with. "I'm just saying."

Elsa turns away with another shake of her head, obviously irritated. "Do you mind leaving?" she asks, her tone clipped, colder than before. "I really need to get this paperwork done and you here...it's distracting."

"Figured." Red chooses to ignore her request altogether though. Pushing people away might be the snowflake's defense mechanism, but that didn't mean she was gonna just play along and encourage it.

Fuck that.

"After all being this devastatingly beautiful I tend to make it hard for people to concentrate."

She casually glances back at Elsa only to get a scoff in return, a clear attempt (made in vain) to distract from the fact that she'd managed to get her to smile.

Red doesn't even try to hide her own triumphant smile.

"So what's up, Blondie?" Coming around her desk again, she studies the blonde closely. "You seem really on edge. More so than usual, I mean."

"A queen's work is never done." Elsa offers as an answer though really it's more of a deflection. "It's just really getting to me, I suppose."

Still vague, but whatever.

"Then take a break." Red says easily enough. She turns and inclines her head toward the door. "C'mon, let's go do something. We can go to your palace or down to the village, or hang out in the woods. Pick a fight with a moose or something."

No response. (Although there was a minor chuckle made at that last suggestion).

"C'mon." she sighs, rolling her eyes briefly. "I'll let you pelt snowballs at me if you want."

Elsa just quirks her brow at her skeptically.

"Okay," Red laughs. "That's a _total_ lie but...just c'mon." she playfully huffs, beckoning her forward impatiently. "You obviously need to unwind. You've been working hard lately."

Not only on her queenly duties but on herself, on rebuilding her relationship with Anna and better controlling her powers.

Red was helping her out on that last one, teaching her to fucking keep her cool when under duress...mainly by way of provocation.

Was it the smartest way of going about things? No, considering girlie could turn her into a legit ice cube with a flick of her wrist when given a rise but hey, her methods were thus far proving successful.

Besides she liked riling up the ever-composed queen. It was a hella lot of fun.

Anyways.

"So are you in?" Red raises her eyebrow expectantly. "Or are you really gonna opt to stick it out in here for the rest of the day while you sign away your youth to," Peering over Elsa's shoulder, her face screws up at the name addressed at the top. "Lord Weaseltown?"

"_Weselton_."

"Whatever."

Red turns back around so that she's facing Elsa. "So?" Head cocked to the side, she extends her hand out to the blonde. "What's it gonna be?"

Elsa still looks hesitant, as evident by her pressed lips, but within seconds Red sees a small relenting smile start to poke through.

"Okay. Fine." Elsa sighs in defeat, then slips her hand into Red's awaiting one.

As she pushes herself upright, Red draws back, mock offended. "Don't act like hanging out with me is a chore, Blondie." she scoffs. "I'll have you know I don't need your company."

Elsa takes a moment to smooth out her dress before lifting her gaze. A knowing smile plays across her lips as she raises one perfectly arched brow at her. "If you didn't need it then why are you here?"

Red meets the blonde's gaze with a pointed smirk of her own. "Because I _want_ it. There's a difference."

Something flickers in Elsa's eyes that she can't name.

Sensing that admission might have been a little too brazen for the young queen, Red clears her throat uncomfortably and adds, "Before your ego gets too inflated, snowflake. Make no mistake. You may be a queen but you're not like, _all that_." She rolls her eyes, then allows a cocky grin to settle across her features. "I'm still way cooler."

Brow raised, Elsa merely extends her hand in response.

Red releases uncharacteristic yelp when the snowflake places her little frosty freeze fingers on her bare neck. "Cold!"

Elsa's barely able to suppress the small chuckle that threatened to bubble forth. "You were saying?"

Red glares hard at the smiling blonde. "Metaphorically." she grits out, hand still covering the side of her neck. "I meant _metaphorically_ speaking, I'm cooler."

"Simple misunderstanding." Elsa shrugs adorably, her hands tucked innocently behind her back.

"Misunderstanding my as—"

Cut off by a sudden knock on the study door, Red glances over her shoulder curiously, just as Elsa permits the person's entrance.

"Come in."

The double doors creak open slowly, where in the servant Kai steps through, looking disconcerted. "Your Majesty," he begins weakly, hesitantly moving closer. Red sees him swallow. "Your Majesty," he tries again, firmer this time. "Representatives of the Evil Queen have just arrived and requested an audience."

Red just blinks. It takes a second for the words to register. But when they do, she finds herself needing to do a double-take. "Evil...?"

Brow furrowed, she glances back at the blonde whose mouth was slightly parted in surprise. "Elsa, what's going on?"

The young queen snaps out of it and clears her throat, recovering quickly enough. She ignores Red for the moment. "Tell them I'll be in momentarily. Thank you Kai."

Elsa waits until the door closes behind him before walking out from behind her desk. Her purposeful avoidance of eye contact does not go unnoticed by Red. "See to it that Rapunzel and Anna don't accidentally wander into the throne room, if you don't mind." she says over her shoulder, her tone strangely calm in spite of the bombshell just dropped.

Meanwhile Red's head is still reeling.

"Uh, excuse me?" Red wastes no time in hurrying after her. "Un momento, por favor." Whirling around, she stops right in front of the blonde, cutting her off. "You have some serious explaining to do."

Elsa doesn't meet her gaze right away, which Red automatically takes as confirmation that she _was_ hiding something.

"Now what the hell are the Evil Queen's goons doing here?"

"If you must know, she sought me out in a letter not too long ago." Elsa sighs, grudgingly raising her chin after feeling Red's unwavering eyes on her. "Word has it her outlaw of a step-daughter is traveling north, possibly looking to seek refuge here in Arendelle. She wants my cooperation in the girl's capture."

Red's shoulders slump incredulously.

"-and in return she offered to help Arendelle recoup some of our losses from my little mishap. But I, of course, declined. I have no desire to conduct business of any kind with a woman whose main goal in life it seems is to murder her step-daughter." Elsa stops short, registering Red's sickened expression. Her brow creases accordingly. "Are you alright?"

Red gives a curt nod in response. "Sorry. Yeah. It's just I...lot to process." Shaking her head quickly, she meets Elsa's concerned gaze with one of her own. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Of course." Elsa nods, her tone not belying her words. "Evidently the Queen brought her representatives here in to attempt to further persuade me into complying with her wishes, but as they will soon realize, nothing will change my mind." Elsa smooths out her dress before continuing on her way toward the door. "This meeting shouldn't take long. Afterward, we can do something together."

Red watches her go, momentarily stunned silent by the blonde's complete disregard of the gravity of the situation.

"Elsa, hold on a second." She latches onto the her arm in an instant and gently pulls the girl back, forcing her to look at her. "That bitch calls herself the Evil Queen for a reason. You can't just deny her and think you're gonna get away with it scot free. She's powerful—"

"Evidently not as powerful as she thinks." Elsa calmly interjects, her brow lifting slightly at Red's skepticism. "Why else would she seek my help in capturing her step-daughter? I mean, for goodness' sake the girl's not even magical."

Red resists the urge to shake her head again. Elsa just doesn't get it. And how could she? Arendelle was, for the most part, blissfully isolated from everything and everyone - even the Evil Queen.

Or at least, _it was._

"Hey. Don't underestimate her." she warns, holding the blonde's gaze to show her seriousness. "You do not want her as an enemy. Trust me. I've seen her what her reign of terror entails and it is not pretty."

"So what?" Elsa stares at her questioningly. "You think I should give into her request, aide her in killing Snow White?"

"Of course not." she scoffs, rolling her eyes at the very idea. "Snow's one annoying ass hobbit who can't keep her mouth shut for the life of her but she doesn't deserve to die for it."

Elsa raises her brow, mildly caught off-guard by that admission. "You know her? Snow White?"

"Unfortunately." Red confirms with a slight grimace.

Elsa's mouth parts, obviously with more follow-up questions ready, but closes it almost immediately, deciding they can be answered at a later time. "So you don't want me to cross the Evil Queen but you don't want me to help her either?" she has to clarify, still confused as to what Red was suggesting she do.

"The woman has no problem getting her hands dirty with other people's blood." Red nods, crossing her arms over her chest.

_So yeah, stay the fuck as far away from her as you can._

"I'm perfectly capable of handling myself." Elsa answers calmly. It takes more than a mention of blood to send her cowering in fear - a trait Red would otherwise appreciate if this were any other situation.

Like one that didn't involve an evil queen, let alone _the_ Evil Queen.

Red sighs heavily, her arms dropping to their sides. "I didn't say that you weren't. I just..." She trails off, frustrated, mentally cursing this no-win situation she suddenly found herself a part of.

"This is an unfortunate situation to be in and considering who we're dealing with, no matter what I choose, we're bound to come out scathed in some manner of speaking." Elsa begins, acknowledging the very fact, all but taking the words right out of Red's head.

Uncanny how she could do that.

"But I have to do what is right. I will not become the monster people assume me to be, which is exactly what will happen if I align myself with the Evil Queen." Elsa exhales steadily, retaining her regal composure. "Now if you'll excuse me."

Side-stepping around her, Elsa pulls open the door and strides through without a backward glance.

Snowflake thinks she's leaving it at that, which just makes Red shake her head.

Honestly. You'd think she'd know better by now.

It takes but a second for Elsa to notice her following right on her heels.

Red throws her a quick look over her shoulder. "You're out of your fucking mind if you think for a second I'm not coming with you." she retorts, answering the blonde's unspoken question before walking on ahead of her.

—

The throne room has at least a dozen of the Evil Queen's so-called _Black Knights_ standing in rigid formation, maybe more, much to Red's dismay.

For a split second, she had hoped that maybe - just maybe - they'd only have to deal with one or two representatives _tops_, but of course, that wasn't gonna happen. She should know better by now than to think the Evil Queen would send nothing short of an army to do her bidding, even it was just to "talk".

Following in Elsa's wake, Red does her best not to breath in through her nose. These guys reeked of death, triggering that all too familiar instinctive urge to wolf out and...to protect.

Er...and by protect she meant _kick ass_.

"Presenting, Queen Elsa of Arendelle."

While Elsa ascends the steps to her throne, Red opts to stand by one of the pillars on the ground level. Not too close but just close enough.

Just in case.

"Gentlemen." Elsa acknowledges once seated.

"Your Majesty." One armored man in particular steps forward, presumably the leader of the cult, er - _unit_. "I assume you know the reason for our presence."

"I do. Elsa nods, then furrows her brow. "Sir...?"

"James." the man supplies, the light in the room glinting off his perfectly white - and totally maniacal - teeth.

_He probably sold his soul for those pearly whites._

Red crosses her arms and sighs to herself, suddenly wishing Rapunzel was here to do sideline commentary with her.

"Sir James, then." Elsa nods. "I must regretfully inform you that your trip here has been made in vain. I have already made my position on the matter quite clear to your Queen."

"No one, not even a fellow queen, denies Her Majesty of what she desires." Sir James states as cordially as he can.

Not even a minute has passed and already Red would like nothing more than to scalp those annoying brown curls right off his head.

Well that or use Rapunzel's frying pan to bludgeon him with.

"Your queen is entirely capable of handling her own affairs with her own means." Elsa counters easily enough, hands folded neatly in her lap. "She does not require my assistance."

"True," James concedes to a nod, then reminds with a pointed stare, "But she wishes it."

"While that may be, it does not mean others are required to make it so." Elsa says in return, her gaze unyielding. "She does not rule over the entire realm. Although even then I still would not yield to her demands."

If anything James looks amused. It's infuriating to say the least, his stupid smirk grating Red's last nerve.

It's moments like this where Red knows she could never cut it as a princess, let alone a queen. She just doesn't have the willpower to deal with this type of shit.

"For your sake and for your kingdom's sake, do as the Evil Queen requests." James advises knowingly. "You may not realize it, being so far up north, practically living in isolation, but Her Majesty is not to be trifled with." He smiles simply at Elsa, an unmistakable glint in his eye. "At least, not without consequence."

Red smirks at the fact that Elsa doesn't so much as bat an eyelash at his less than subtle threat — but she'd be lying if she said there wasn't a tiny part of her made uneasy by his words.

"Neither am I." Elsa states matter-of-factly, slowly rising from her throne, looking every bit the queen. "So if you please." She gestures behind him to the doors that awaited. "Take your men and be gone. For once in her life your Queen will not be getting her way."

"Oh but she will." James smoothly contradicts, his smile no less enigmatic. "One way or the other. She always does."

That does it.

Red's just about ready to push up her sleeves and throw him out herself when Elsa raises her voice.

"Escort them from the premises, please Andolf." She requests of her head guard, her stone cold gaze unwavering from the knight that still stood before her. "And see to it that every last one of them leaves Arendelle immediately."

Andolf comes forward and nods. "Yes, your Majesty." He then indicates to his own men on the outer perimeter to follow suit and move in.

As a result those clad in black armor shift their stance to a defensive one and unsheathe their weapons, prepared to fight.

To Red's dismay though - and probably Elsa's relief - an altercation does not ensue.

Donning a mysterious expression that Red did not like the look of one bit, James holds up a hand at the last second, halting his men's actions.

"Now gentlemen let's not be rude. Do as her Majesty requests and let's be on our way." he instructs, much to their perplexity. After all, Black Knights showing lenience of any kind was unheard of.

Which just makes Red that much more untrusting of this guy. If she didn't care so much about the repercussions, she would have slit his throat with one of her immaculate fingernails, then skinned him and turned him into a lovely floor rug for her abuela's cottage already.

Not like he wouldn't go with the decor.

"It's been a pleasure." James bows once last time, if only to mock, his eyes trained on the wary queen the entire time. "Your Majesty." he smirks.

Elsa waits until the room was completely cleared out, save for her and Red, before releasing the breath she'd apparently been holding for some time.

Red still doesn't know what the fuck just happened.

After taking a moment, Elsa slowly turns her head to glance over her shoulder. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention any of this to Anna."

Red steps closer to her, trying to get the blonde to meet her gaze. Her brow furrows questioningly. "You really think keeping this from her is a good idea?"

"No need to concern her." Elsa merely says in response, turning away before Red could accurately gauge her expression.

She was getting a lot better at reading the blonde these days - a fact Elsa has seemed to have cottoned on to.

Not that Red was surprised. Snowflake was just as perceptive as she was.

"She's gonna find out eventually." she feels the need to point out anyways. "I mean, that girl's one of the nosiest-"

Red is stopped short by the sudden flash of warning she sees in those unamused hazel eyes. "So, what are you going to do?" she asks instead, clearing her throat once she recovers from that oddly shaming moment.

"Pray that that vile woman can take a hint and hope for the best." Elsa answers simply, picking up the hem of her gown to descend the steps of her throne.

Red follows her toward the door, reasonably skeptical of that lack of a plan, but chooses not to comment on it. She figures she shouldn't - at least not until she herself can offer up a better solution.

"You should've just ignored her letter." she finds herself muttering instead. As they walk side by side she does her best to ignore the heavy sense of dread slowly beginning to seep into her bones.

What the fuck were they going to do?

"It would have only delayed the inevitable." Elsa says, sighing a little. "Either way I'd still be in this same predicament."

Red just nods, knowing that to be true whether she liked it or not. "Whatever happens though," She looks back at Elsa, prompting the blonde to meet her gaze curiously. "Know I got your back."

Elsa nods her head slightly, a small appreciative smile gracing her features. "Thank you. Truly."

Red just shrugs off the gratitude and stares ahead at the length of hallway they had left to go, suddenly realizing she had no idea what their destination was.

"So...what do you want to do now?" she asks, not at all awkwardly, as she slows her pace.

Elsa breathes out a bit unsteadily. "Honestly?"

Red turns and gives her an encouraging nod, sensing her hesitance.

"Lock myself in my room until I no longer feel like I'm on the verge of another nervous break."

Catching sight of the blonde's wringing hands, Red circles around to stand in front of her. "Hey." While she gently coaxes Elsa into meeting her gaze, her hands move over hers to halt their compulsive movement. "You did good back there. Like real good." she reaffirms with a soft smile. "I didn't even see frost on your fingertips."

"Wasn't without effort." Elsa confesses, her lips twitching up a sad smile. "Lots and lots of effort..." she murmurs, her words trailing off.

Red lightly shakes her head, unable to help keep the smirk off her face. "Regardless you're getting the hang of it. _Keeping cool_."

Chuckling at her own god awful pun, her smile widens at Elsa's playfully unamused expression. "Hilarious, Red." she says dryly, her eyes rolling briefly. "Like I've never heard that before."

"I know." she nods, her cheeky grin not dropping. "Hilarity is just one of my many gifts."

Elsa laughs lightly. "The same cannot be said for modesty though." she sighs, briefly shaking her head at her.

Red scoffs outright, a cocky grin spreading out across her features. "Psh. Who needs modesty when you can have awesomeness?"

Elsa stares at her smilingly, but with her brow creased skeptically. "Pretty sure that's not a word."

"Pretty sure you're just an ice cube with boobs." she shoots back with a broad grin, laughing even as she has to sidestep out of the way to dodge the brunt of Elsa's fist to her arm.

"Incorrigible." the blonde huffs, directing a playful glare her way.

"Okay now who's the one making up words?" Red laughs scoffingly, looking over at her with a furrowed brow. "What'd you call me? Porrigable? What am I, one of the Three Bears?"

"Well now that you mention it you are awfully hostile when someone so much as comes near your food." Elsa begins, nodding her head in thought. "And you do call Rapunzel _Goldilocks_ from time to time." She glances back at Red, her playfully narrowed eyes slowly widening with incredulity. "Here I thought it was simply because of her hair. But that's how you met her isn't it? You found her sleeping in your bed after she ate all your porridge."

Red can't help but scoff another laugh. "Keep up the sass, snowflake." She points out her finger in warning. "And see where it gets you."

Elsa just shakes her head to herself, that teasing smile still playing across her lips. "I can't believe I didn't realize it sooner." she continues in jest, completely disregarding Red's threat. "Now it all makes sense."

Red glares back at the smirking royal. "If you weren't a queen I'd _so_ slap you."

—

None to Red's surprise, it doesn't take long for word to spread of Elsa's dealings with the Evil Queen's, er - 'representatives'. All the royal staff members, from the scullery maids to the stable boys, were total gossip mongers when it came down to it.

That being said it was only a matter of time before word got around to certain members of the royal family - ie. Anna - whether Elsa liked it or not. Red knew Elsa's intentions were good -figured it was out of love, of wanting to protect her sister, that she wanted to keep the matter a secret. But if there's one thing she's learned today, it's that the truth always comes out.

Of course that's not to say she intends on breaking her promise and tell Anna what was going on - no, that was on the snowflake - but Elsa never did say anything about her talking to _Rapunzel_...

"So what does this mean?" Red's just finished filling in said blonde, the two of them en route to the dining room for dinner. "Like, what should we do?"

"_What can we do_ is the better question." she sighs, grimacing slightly. "Considering who she is, this probably isn't the last we'll be hearing from the Evil Queen."

Rapunzel worries her bottom lip in thought, still in the midst of processing everything. After, she turns her head. "You don't think she'd hurt Elsa or Anna, do you?"

Red wants to say _no_ but she can't. Besides Rapunzel knows her too well to lie. "Rapunzel," she starts off gently, glancing back at the blonde. "They don't call her the Evil Queen for nothing."

"Well maybe she's really not as bad as people think." Rapunzel suggests, ever the optimist. "Maybe she's like Elsa and just misunderstood."

Red can't help but shake her head at her friend's naivete. She blamed the whole tower isolation thing. "She calls herself the _Evil_ Queen, Rapunzel. And don't compare her to Elsa." she throws in quickly, maybe even defensively, that second part only just registering. "The woman massacres for sport."

Rapunzel holds her hands up in surrender, her brow raised. "Okay. Fine. I won't."

"Look, just don't bring this up during dinner." she sighs as they round the corner. "Anna doesn't know about all this and I spent all afternoon trying to keep Elsa's mind off it. The more she thinks about it, the more she stresses, and of course the more she stresses the more likely she is to give herself another anxiety attack and we all know what happens then."

"Flurries." Rapunzel nods, remembering well. "Lots and lots of flurries."

"Exactly."

Rapunzel steals a sidelong glance at her then, taking the opportunity to casually bring up, "You two have been spending an awful lot of time together."

"Yeah." Red keeps walking, her mind too busy worrying this Evil Queen business to pick up on the blonde's suggestive tone. She glances back at Rapunzel, concerned. "You're not like...feeling left out are you?"

"No, of course not." Rapunzel shakes her head, smiling reassuringly. "I love hanging out with Anna. We're like two petals of the same sunflower."

Red quirks her lips at the analogy, then furrows her brow, confused. "Then why...?"

"I'm just saying, you and Elsa..." Rapunzel raises her shoulders, letting the gesture do the talking for her. "There's something there."

Red finally stops her pace. "Like what?"

"Red." Rapunzel stops as well and turns to shoot her one of _those_ looks. "You are way too smart to play dumb."

Her frown just deepens. "What?"

"Don't _what_ me, Red." Rapunzel says with a pointed stare, hands moving to her hips. "I know what's what."

_Huh?_ "Okay I'm lost."

Rapunzel throws her head back in mock exasperation. "She likes you, Red."

Raising her brow, she nods slowly. "Uh, _yeah_. Of course she does." she scoffs. "I'm like totally awesome."

Rapunzel rolls her eyes, then lightly punches her arm. "I'm serious, Red. She likes you. Just like you like her."

_Okay_, she snorts. Her gaze flickers to the ceiling then back again. "And she told you this?" she inquires, brow arched skeptically.

"She didn't have to." Rapunzel retorts, shaking her head. "It's obvious by the way she looks at you. And by the way _you_ look at her."

"I don't look at her in any particular way." Red instantly denies. "And I'm positive neither does she." When Rapunzel opens her mouth to object, she cuts her off. "I know her, Rapunzel. I'd know if she was giving me vibes."

Rapunzel releases an uncharacteristic snort. "Well that just proves how _oblivious_ you are."

"I resent that remark." she scoffs, drawing back indignantly. "I am not oblivious."

"Evidently so if you can't see the special connection you two have." Rapunzel smirks.

"Special - what?"

Rapunzel nods. "Elsa can be hard to read sometimes but you like...get her. You always know just what to say to her, what to do to make her feel better. It's why she's so comfortable around you."

"She's comfortable with you too." Red reminds.

"Yeah, but not nearly to the same extent."

"Well we've had similar experiences." she says as way of explanation, shrugging her shoulders a little. "We both know what it feels like to have a part of ourselves we struggle to control, to be persecuted because of it."

Rapunzel smiles brightly, like she'd just proven her point. "See?"

Red shakes her head, still not understanding. "See what? Just because we can relate to each other doesn't mean that we feel — I'm not, we're not like...well, _you know_."

Suddenly her face feels very hot.

Rapunzel slightly scrunches her nose at that less than coherent response. "No, I don't know." she laughs.

"You know what I mean." Red huffs, glaring unappreciatively. "And besides Elsa's still getting used to the whole 'being around people' thing. I'm pretty sure dating is the last thing on her mind."

She could only imagine what kind of a tailspin _that_ conversation would send the snowflake spiraling into.

Rapunzel folds her arms across her chest, a smug smile toying across her lips. "Who said anything about _dating_, Red?"

"Shut up."

Plus how would that even work, dating a queen? Don't they have to like marry...kings? Or at the very least someone else of noble blood? Never mind someone with wolf blood.

..._And_ what the hell is she doing thinking about marriage?

Unnerved by that sudden train of thought, Red quickly shakes her head to rid herself of it.

"And anyways Anna says Elsa likes to talk about you." Rapunzel rocks back on her heels, grinning knowingly. "_A lot_."

Red stops, that momentarily panic forgotten. "She's probably just exaggerating. You know Anna." she reasons quickly, shifting uncomfortably now that this weird, er - _feeling_ had settled in the pit of her stomach.

They're _so_ not butterflies.

Rapunzel nods in confirmation, her smile no less giddy. "Apparently whenever she wants to get Elsa to open up, she uses you as the ice breaker. And it works like a charm _every. time_." The blonde punctuates those last two words with a light poke to each of Red's cheeks, making her squirm away.

"_Rapunzel_."

"You two are gonna have such beautiful babies." Rapunzel sighs airily, hands clasped together as she twirls around happily.

"Uh...Blondie?" Red raises a brow, mildly concerned. "Did no one tell you how reproduction works?"

Rapunzel stops, playfully narrowing her eyes at her. "You know what I meant."

"Uh no, I don't." she scoffs, amused in a way. "And please don't get too far ahead of yourself. We are just friends."

Rapunzel resumes her twirling. "Friends who have super obvious, not-so-secret crushes on each other." she says in a slightly sing-song manner.

Red rolls her eyes and resumes walking. "You are ridiculous."

"Ridiculously cute." Rapunzel corrects with a proud cheeky grin.

When she just shakes her head, Rapunzel sighs and sidles up to her. "Look, Red." Rapunzel stops in front of her, halting her stride. "I may not have a lot of people experience-"

"That makes two of us."

Rapunzel nods. "-but I'm not just saying this stuff because I wanna make you all uncomfortable and embarrassed, or because I think it's what you want to hear. I know what I see and when you two are around each other it's just... it's right. You know? Can you honestly say you don't feel any of that?"

Red sighs heavily, then lifts her gaze to focus on the blonde. "Rapunzel, you know I love you, but seriously you need to slow your roll. Okay?" She casts a quick glance over her shoulder to ensure they were still very much alone before admitting what she had to say next aloud. "Sure I like Elsa. Maybe even like, _like her_ like her. But now is _so_ not the time to even touch on that. Not with everything that's going on."

And hell they don't even know if Elsa likes girls like _that_.

"But if not now then when?" Rapunzel quirks a brow. "It's not like we're gonna be staying here in Arendelle forever, Red. Sooner or later we'll have to go home."

Red grimaces at the reminder. She knew that _eventually_ they'd have to go back home and resume their normal lives, but honestly she couldn't stand thinking about it for too long. It made her sick.

"I know that." she sighs, frustrated, and confused. "I just..." Red trails off and puts her hands to her temples, really wanting to get off topic right about now. "Look it's cool you want us to be together, Blondie. But she and I - we're just friends. That isn't going to magically change over night. And pushing things isn't going to help any."

Rapunzel frowns deeply. "I'm not pushing."

"Not intentionally. But what you're doing, throwing out all these ideas of what you think Elsa feels and what you think I feel is really screwing with my head and frankly, kind of freaking me out."

It was way too soon for her to be hearing this kind of talk anyways.

After all she was only certain of a few things and since that reduced everything else to speculation, she'd just rather not hear it.

"Sorry." Rapunzel says, cringing slightly. "I just want you to be happy."

Red sighs. "I_ am_ happy, Blondie." she smiles, clasping her shoulder reassuringly. Rapunzel smiles faintly in return as she starts them off toward the dining room again.

"Just keep this kind of talk between us, alright?" she asks, fixating Rapunzel with a pointed stare. " Elsa's got a lot on her plate enough as it is and the last thing she needs is _someone_ giving her the impression that I'm like googly-eyed for her and shit."

"Even though you totally are?" Rapunzel smirks, unable to help herself.

Red would have responded if it weren't for the fact that they'd reached their destination already and the two attendants standing outside were now within earshot.

Following behind the blonde, Red gives the footmen an acknowledging nod on their way inside while Rapunzel thanks them for opening the doors.

The dining room, er - or is it _hall_? - is unsurprisingly empty save for the young queen who was always on time. Her sister, on the other hand, was a completely different story.

"Hey, Elsa." Rapunzel greets cheerfully, immediately setting off with her usual pep along the long table.

The blonde startles a bit, caught off guard by Rapunzel's sudden presence. Evidently she hadn't heard the door.

"Oh, hello Rapunzel." Elsa instantly calms. She nods to them both, managing a faint smile. "Red."

Her lips quirk at the acknowledgment. "Snowflake." she says in return, walking down the aisle. After plopping herself down in her usual chair next to Rapunzel, she fixates her attention on the blonde currently organizing the dinnerware across from her.

One of Elsa's quirks, she's noticed. When Elsa has a lot on her mind, she likes to take over the task of setting the table for meals. Busying herself with the various utensils helped to ease her stress, she guessed. Or at the very least distract from it.

"So what's for dinner?" Rapunzel asks, if only to break the silence. She hated silence.

Red answers before Elsa can."Vegetable soup, lamb chops, roasted potatoes, and chocolate cake for dessert, if I'm not mistaken. Which I'm not." she smirks.

Elsa raises her brow, impressed. "That's amazing."

Red taps her nose in response. "Perk of having a sensitive nose." she shrugs, having caught a whiff of everything when it was being prepared earlier.

"I wish I had super smelling wolf powers." Rapunzel sighs, slouching a little in her seat after failing to sniff out their meal like Red had.

Red just chuckles at her. "With great power comes great responsibility, Blondie."

Rapunzel concedes to a nod after a moment, agreeing. "True that."

"Elsa!"

The double doors Red and Rapunzel had just walked through burst open suddenly, with a flushed and panting Anna piling forward.

"Anna?" Elsa stops what she's doing and immediately goes over to her sister. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Anna recovers quickly from that utterly graceless entrance and meets her sister halfway. "Seriously?" she scoffs, throwing her hands up incredulously - nearly hitting herself in the face in the process. "You have to ask that question?"

Elsa stares blankly, blinking. "You're upset." Her brow furrows.

"Yeah I'm upset!" Anna huffs, still gaping.

Then it dawns on Elsa. "You know."

"Yeah, _I know_." Anna repeats, no less appeased. "Though unlike everyone else in the castle, I've only just found out about this—this Evil Queen business! Which _begs the question_ why am I just hearing about this?"

"I didn't feel I needed to concern you."

Red and Rapunzel, still watching the exchange from the other side of the table, cringe slightly at Elsa's response. Not the choice wording either would have gone with.

Anna's mouth falls open. "You didn't— are you kidding me? Arendelle is just as much my kingdom as yours!"

"You are not queen." Elsa is careful to remind.

"T-that doesn't matter!" Anna splutters indignantly. "We are still family! Which means we are equally responsible for _our_ home."

"It wasn't like I intended on keeping this from you, forever." Elsa sighs. "I myself am still trying to wrap my head around things — and figure out some course of action should the consequences arise, which they undoubtedly will."

Anna's shoulders slump, her anger spent. "Well if you'd just told me sooner I could have helped you out with that." she sighs, stepping forward, grabbing her sister's hand. "Just because you're the one who wears the crown and bears the title, doesn't mean you have to go at this, or any of it, alone. I'm _right_ here, Elsa. Ready and willing to help you in any way that I can."

Elsa exhales deeply. "Anna," She squeezes her eyes shut before carefully pulling away. "My responsibilities are just that: mine."

"We're supposed to be in this together." Anna huffs, disliking that response. "You know, like _sisters?_ We could have figured this out together."

"And done what exactly?" Elsa inquires, a sharp edge to her voice. "You and I both know we'd never go along with the Evil Queen's plans. Which would lead us exactly to where we are now. It makes no difference."

"It does to me!" Anna shouts, eyes burning. "Here I am once _again_ being left out in the dark." She pulls back, hurt. "Even after everything we've been through you are still shutting me out."

Elsa recoils like she's just been slapped. "Anna, that's not true—"

"Isn't it?" Anna interjects, brow raised. Turning away, she shakes her head to herself, then looks back at her sister in disbelief. "You swore you'd never do that to me again."

Elsa blinks, still taken aback. "Anna...I wasn't..."

"You know I think I've lost my appetite." Anna mumbles, scratching the back of her neck uncomfortably, purposefully avoiding her sister's gaze. "So if you don't mind," She gestures to the door behind her, already back pedaling out of the room. "I'm just gonna, you know, not be here."

Elsa steps forward, to go after her, but holds herself back at the last second.

Red's not sure which sister looked more pitiful.

Elsa's eyes absently drift over to her - instilling a momentary panic that mind reading was another one of snowflake's special gifts, one that had yet to be disclosed - and their gazes lock for a brief moment before the blonde sharply breaks contact.

"If you'll excuse me." Elsa turns away, towards the side door. "I need a moment alone."

When it's just them two, Red and Rapunzel exchange similarly concerned looks. The trail of frost left in Elsa's wake did not go unnoticed by either one of them.

"We should probably go after them." Rapunzel says first, breaking the silence.

"Probably." Red agrees, grudgingly rising from her seat. "But first let's get some food."

Rapunzel stares at her, half amused, half incredulous. "Are you serious?" She shakes her head, because really, she should know better by now. "Always thinking with your stomach. How is it you're _always_ hungry?"

"Hey, it's dinnertime." Red says in her defense. "And 'sides after that little show I doubt they're gonna come back for dinner."

Rapunzel raises her brow. "Maybe not Elsa but _Anna_..."

Red concedes a nod. True girlie loved to get her grub on - almost as much as she herself did - and wouldn't let anything get in the way of her eating her three square meals.

"Right. So you take Anna, and I'll take Elsa?"

"I bet you will." Rapunzel snickers, earning a playful eye roll from her.

"_Rapunzel_."

"Never mind me." she chuckles, holding up her hands as she backs up to leave out of the double doors Anna had taken. "You just go on. Take care of your girl."

Red tenses up and scowls automatically. "She's not my girl."

Rapunzel smiles disbelievingly. "Uh-huh. Sure, _okay_."

—

After making a pit stop to the kitchen, Red heads on over to Elsa's bedroom. While balancing the silver tray of food on her right palm, she tears into her third dinner roll of the evening. Her eyes all but roll back in her head as she chews and savors the oh-so delicious garlic-y, buttery flavor.

Bread like this makes her seriously considering giving up meat altogether, just so she can fill herself entirely with their right out-of-the-oven fluffy golden goodness.

Cause seriously. Hot damn.

She'd _totally_ kill to have a never-ending supply of these bad boys.

Stopping at the queen's door, Red shoves the rest of the roll in her mouth before delivering a quick knock against the wood grain.

Before she leaves Arendelle she's so gonna pack up like a wheelbarrow full of them to take home.

Red doesn't bother waiting for a response - knowing the snowflake well enough by now that she probably wouldn't get one anyways - opting instead to simply let herself inside the blonde's bedroom.

"I don't know what your cook does to make these rolls so fucking delicious but I definitely want the recipe." she declares upon entry. "Even if the secret ingredient turns out to be like pig fat or some other nasty shit I'm better off not knowing."

Red closes the door behind her with her foot, then looks up expectantly, waiting for some kind of acknowledgment.

"No offense, Red but I really don't feel like talking right now." Elsa sighs quietly, keeping her back toward her and arms folded while she stares out her window, at her kingdom below.

"Then don't." she says easily enough, scoffing somewhat. She smiles briefly at the fact that, in spite of Elsa's mood, there wasn't so much as a snow flurry in sight.

"Brought dinner." she adds, walking over to Elsa's nightstand and setting the tray down on it.

"Thank you, I'm not very hungry."

"Suit yourself." Red shrugs, plopping herself down on the blonde's bed. She pulls her dinner plate onto her lap and promptly uncovers it. "But I gotta warn you, I'll totally scarf down yours if you leave it unattended and within my reach for too long."

When she's met with nothing but silence, Red releases an irritable huff. "C'mon, Frosty." She throws her head back in a groan. "I brought you this damn food all the way up from the kitchen, which isn't exactly around the corner, you know. The least you could do is fucking eat it with me."

"Frosty?" Elsa repeats curiously, finally turning around.

Red can't help but raise her brow. "_That's_ what gets your attention?" she scoffs, unbelieving. "Are you kidding me?"

"You've never called me that before." Elsa says with a simple shrug, tentatively crossing over to join her on the bed.

As Elsa settles down next to her, Red passes over her plate to her. "So..." she trails off, not so subtly, figuring she might as well test the water.

"Red." Elsa sighs in warning, knowing well enough why she was truly here, but not having it.

"Okay, fine." She nods, understanding. "You don't wanna talk about it. Just making sure."

For the next few minutes they eat in silence. Well _Red_ eats, Elsa more or less just plays with her food.

And Red's fine with it - the not talking - until she sees that she was close to finishing her plate. Once the food was gone she was gonna have to find _something_ to occupy herself with.

Keeping that in mind, Red picks up her last dinner roll - which was technically Elsa's (she'd hijacked it before coming up) - and casually brings back the conversation. "You know I'm not one for politics but I'd so go to war for these bad boys."

They're _that_ good.

"Most people go to war over territory and the pursuit of wealth. Good to know Little Red Riding Hood is willing to put her life on the line for a piece of baked dough." says Elsa dryly.

Red jerks her head around, completely overlooking the sass for once. "How the hell did you know about that name?"

A small smile finally breaks out across her features. Elsa scoffs a laugh. "How do you think?"

_Rapunzel_.

"Ugh." Red turns away, disgusted. "Don't mention that name ever again. And I mean _ever_."

"Little Red Riding Hood." Elsa says defiantly, her smile morphing into a playful little smirk at Red's full on glare.

"I am not above gouging you with a fork, Blondie." she warns, pointing said fork her way. "So watch it."

"What about _Caperucita Roja_?" Elsa offers instead, rolling her "r's" fluently. "Can I call you that?"

Red raises her brow, mildly impressed. "Pretty good with your español, snowflake."

"A queen has to be well versed in many languages." she simply recites, neatly cutting into her food.

"Uh-huh, yeah." Red mumbles, chewing around another mouthful of bread. "Good for you. Just don't fucking call me that name in any language. Or so help you God."

"I think it's cute."

Red coughs a little but recovers quickly. "Yeah well I don't." she huffs, trying to maintain her glare.

"Don't see why."

"Don't see why not." she retorts, tearing through her chunk of bread.

Elsa smiles slightly, watching in amusement as Red devours the last of it. "You're welcome by the way."

"For what?" she asks, distracted, (and so not sucking the garlic residue off her fingers by the way).

"For the roll."

Red's brow comically shoots up of its own accord.

"Don't think I didn't notice you'd stolen mine."

"Did not." she instantly scoffs, but avoiding the blonde's gaze. "The cook just probably forgot to give you one."

Elsa stares at her, her skeptical brow perfectly arched.

"What? Okay, fine." Red rolls her eyes briefly, then sighs. "Yours fell on the floor while I was carrying the food up the stairs. I didn't want to give it to you like nothing happened so I threw it away."

Elsa just shakes her head. "You are a horrible liar." she can't help but laugh.

"Whatever." Red shrugs. She waves her hand around, gesticulating absently. "Conjure yourself up a snowball and eat that. Probably tastes better to you anyways."

"Where on earth do you get your logic?" Elsa stares, perplexed.

"What the hell is logic?"

Elsa rolls her eyes and returns her attention to her food. After a moment, she questions, "Can I ask you something?"

"I don't know, can you?" Red responds smartly, earning another light shake of her head from Elsa.

"How do you know Snow White?"

Red blinks her surprise, not expecting that question.

"I'm just...curious, I guess." Elsa explains, lowering her gaze momentarily. "You've never mentioned her before today. Of course I know you'd have no reason to." she amends quickly, face reddening as she proceeds to ramble in a very Anna-esque way. "What you choose to tell me or not tell me about your life is your business, I just wondering—making sure that, you know..."

Flustered, Elsa shoves a little red potato in her mouth to promptly shut herself up and keep from further embarrassing herself.

Only the potato is not quite as 'little' as she'd thought, which leads to the amusing sight of the Queen of Arendelle, in all her chipmunk cheeked glory, awkwardly trying to chew her way through a heaping mouthful of potato.

The struggle, Red thinks, is real.

"It was a brief encounter." she says distractedly, trying and failing not to stare (and laugh) at the blonde who'd literally bitten off more than she can chew. "Happened around the time I came back from bringing Rapunzel to Corona."

Finally she can't take it anymore. Sure the scene was all kinds of ridiculous cuteness, but it was one that could easily go south within an instant.

And if that were to happen, she'd be prime suspect numero uno.

And that would so not fly.

"Snowflake, do yourself a favor and spit it out before you choke to death." Red demands, holding out the girl's napkin to her. "Or worse, before potato starts coming out of your nose."

Nasty.

Elsa mumbles her thanks - or what Red _thinks_ is thanks - before turning away and discreetly spitting into the napkin.

Red pulls a concerned face when she starts to cough a little. "You okay?"

Elsa just nods, eyes slightly watery as she pats her chest.

"Maybe you should have potatoes taken off the menu from now on." she suggests half-jokingly, as she takes her plate and sets it aside.

"Maybe."

When Red looks back at the blonde, she immediately notices that Elsa has a small speck of potato still on her face.

Unthinkingly, she leans forward and wipes the corner of the girl's mouth with her thumb.

It isn't until she suddenly finds herself in very close proximity to startlingly pretty hazel eyes, that Red's brain finally catches up to her body.

She doesn't know why she just did that.

Doesn't know why she didn't just use a napkin.

Doesn't know why she couldn't just let Elsa wipe her own damn face.

She's a big girl, she could've handled it.

Although eating potatoes are another story.

Wait.

Why is she not moving back?

Red continues to stare at her, unable to do anything but apparently, and in doing so realizes that Elsa has pretty much stopped breathing altogether.

Well that makes two of them.

"Uh..."

Glancing down, Red sees the bit of potato still on her finger. She looks at it for a second, then at Elsa, then back again.

Suddenly she can think of nothing but to get rid of it.

So she does.

...by wiping it on Elsa's dress.

Cause that'll make things less awkward.

Elsa stares at her, wide-eyed and brow raised to the fucking ceiling.

Red pulls back cautiously, her heart racing, because really _\- _did she seriously just do that?

_To a fucking queen, no less?_

Ugh_._

It takes all but a second for Elsa to recover and find her voice. "You did _not_ just do that."

_Play it cool, Red. Play it cool._

Fortunately for her she is a pro at masking her emotions - the prominent one now being mortification - so her internal freakout does not manifest itself on her outer features.

As a result Red just shrugs carelessly in response, fixing Elsa with one of her smug smiles. "Your potato. Your dress."

...

_God_. That sounded a lot less fucking lame inside her head.

—

_Red didn't expect her life to drastically change when she returned home, but she'd lying if she said she hadn't hoped that at least _something _would different._

_After all, when you go on a fantastical journey with a quirky blonde slash long lost princess and experience life outside the village you've never really strayed from for the first time, it's kind of impossible to revert back to your uneventful way of living without some level of discontentment weighing you down._

_Trudging across the dewy grass, Red can feel the adventure high she'd been riding since she first got back to the village slowly begin to fade. It's only been a few days but already she felt like she's been away from Rapunzel for months. The memory of their little adventure was already fading into the past. Maybe if she had actual friends she could tell her stories to, she'd be able to keep the memory alive a little longer._

_But she didn't. So she couldn't._

_Red swallows thickly, her throat constricting. Then she shakes her head quickly, knowing it was ridiculous to get emotional over something so stupid. _

_Just because she was feeling lonely._

_Red can't help but roll her eyes at herself. She'd accepted her loneliness ages ago. No idea why it was suddenly bothering her again._

_Whatever._

_Red throws her hood over her head and hurries along, wanting to get as many as her chores done before the weather took a turn for the worse. There was an usual amount of moisture in the air so it was safe to say it was going to rain soon._

_After picking the blackberries her abuela had requested, she ducks inside her family's chicken coop to tend to the chickens._

_She's only just slid off her hood and set down her basket when her nose picks up on the out of place scent._

_That's when she hears the faint rustling._

_Warily, Red stops, automatically sensing that she and the chickens were not the only ones in here. Now she knows it's probably just an animal looking for shelter from the imminent rain, but she feels inclined to investigate anyways. If it's big enough, whatever animal it was could try and eat the chickens._

_And her abuela would so have her ass if that happened._

_So Red pushes up her sleeves and rounds the corner from where the sound had come from, prepared to throw out whatever animal it may be._

_But she finds herself rearing back instead, not expecting the animal to not be an animal at all. "God damn!" _

_Red nearly trips back over her cloak at the sight of a girl crouched down in the corner, hiding not at all obviously. "What the hell?"_

_"I am so sorry!" The girl, who seems to be around her age, stands immediately, eyes all wide and pleading. "I did not intentionally mean to scare you. I__—__please don't freak out."_

_"Do I look like I'm freaking out?" she scoffs, smoothing down her cloak rather indignantly. "Jesus. What the hell are you doing here?" _

_The girl clasps her hands behind her back, looking all too guilty. "I...I was hiding."_

_Way to state the obvious. Red rolls her eyes. "Obviously. But why? And more importantly, why here?"_

_Seriously. Of all places...here?_

_"It's just that someone is looking for me and I've been steadily trying to get as far away from her as possible and well, I could tell it was going to rain soon and this was the closest shelter I could find. I wasn't__—__I'm not here to steal from you or eat any of your livestock, I assure you. I'm just...I need somewhere to stay."_

_Red eyes the girl closely. "How do I know you're not like some kind of mass murderer?" she questions, looking the small brunette up and down._

_Sure she was short, but that didn't mean she couldn't like, get away with shit._

_Short stack doesn't look like she knows how to respond to that. "...do I look like a mass murderer?"_

_"For all I know you could be." Red shrugs. "You do kind of have crazy eyes." she adds as an afterthought, squinting slightly. _

_"I certainly do not." scoffs the girl, straightening her posture indignantly._

_Red has a feeling that's not the first time she's heard that._

_"Look," she sighs. "I really do not have time for this. So would you mind telling me who the hell you are?" The girl looked awfully familiar but she couldn't put her finger on why. _

_"Of course, yes. I'm..." the girl hesitates for some strange reason, almost like she was drawing a blank. "Uh...I'm..."_

_Red follows her gaze the basket behind her with the freshly picked blackberries._

_"Berry." the girl pipes up brightly, not realizing Red had literally _watched_ her come up with that name. "Yes. That's it. My name." she says, nodding vehemently. "You may call me Berry."_

_Red raises her brow. "Berry?" She crosses her arms, then scoffs. "Seriously? That's what you're gonna go with? What's your first name, Black?"_

_When 'Berry' doesn't say anything, just ducks her head - this girl is such a crap liar, it's pathetic - Red snaps, annoyed. "Either tell me your real name, Berry, afores I rip you a new one." _

_Berry stares at her, wide-eyed, both confused and fearful. "I don't know what that means."_

_"And you don't want to." she warns, stepping forward into the shorty's bubble. "So talk."_

_Berry backs up just a peg. "Alright I'll tell you. But you have to promise me you won't freak out."_

_"Alright." Red sighs, resisting the urge to roll her eyes again. "Shoot."_

_"It's Snow." the girl says finally, taking a deep breath. "Snow White."_

_"Snow White?" _

_Brow quirked, Red looks her up and down again, taking in her not so fair complexion. She wrinkles her nose accordingly. "Aren't you a little...brown for that name?"_

_Someone's parents clearly had a thing for irony._

_"Contrary to popular belief, my name has to do with the fact that I was born during the toughest winter. Not because of my skin tone." Snow promptly informs, her arms folding across her chest in a huff._

_"Coco Brown is more appropriate." she mutters._

_Red holds up her hands in defense at Snow's withering look. "Just saying."_

_Wait a minute._

_Red stares at the shorter girl, it all suddenly clicking. "Hold up. You're that Snow White?"_

_The princess?_

_Okay._

_(Side note_—_What is it with her and princesses? Seriously. She is like a princess magnet these days)._

_Anyways._

_"Assuming you mean to ask if I am the same Snow White whose picture appears on the wanted posters all throughout the kingdom, then yes. I am she."_

_Red can't resist rolling her eyes that time. "A simple yes or no would have done the trick, you know."_

_"Any who," Snow looks up at her expectantly, worrying her bottom lip. She slightly rises up on her toes. "What do you think?"_

_Red doesn't get it. "What do I think about what? Your personality? Awful."_

_Snow starts shaking her head, then stops suddenly. "Wait. What? No. Sorry, I was not clear. I meant to say what do you think about my staying here for a few days? Or that is to say, do you think I can stay here? I really haven't any other options. Although I did see a log not too far back...it might be a snug fit but I'm sure I can manage..."_

_Red just stares as Bitty_, _Berry...Snow fairy_—_whatever the fuck her name was, does her little "woe is me" speech. She highly d__oubted her abuela would approve of her housing a fugitive...but then again when did that vieja ever approve of anything she did?_

_"If I agree to let you squat here, what do I get in return?" she hears herself ask, in the process successfully shutting up Snow._

_"Why do you have to get something in return?" Snow frowns deeply. "Why can't you help me out of the goodness of your heart?"_

_Red snorts at the very idea. "Obviously you don't know me very well, dwarf." _

_"I am not a dwarf." Snow cries. _

_She has a feeling that's another nickname Berry's heard plenty of times before. _

_"Maybe not," she concedes. "But you're of dwarf height."_

_"Obviously you don't know much about dwarfs." Snow tilts her chin, obviously miffed. "They are much shorter than I."_

_"Those are called _children_."  
_

_Shaking her head, Red sighs. "C'mon." Despite her better judgment, she beckons the girl forward. "If I'm going to be doing you this favor you might as well earn your keep honestly."_

_"You mean?" Snow's eyes triple their size. If that's even possible. _

_Red cringes when she starts jumping up and down and squealing happily, then lunges back when shorty has the audacity to try and go in for a hug. _

_"Helping me with my morning chores will be thanks enough." she says, holding out her hand to prevent any further contact. _

_"Morning chores?" _

_"Yeah," she nods, still eyeing the girl warily. Just in case she tried to sneak in an embrace, which Red wouldn't put past her. "Y__ou know, milking cows. Feeding chickens. Slopping pigs."_

_Snow's brow furrows skeptically at that last one. "Slopping pigs?" _

_"They're not gonna slop themselves." Red nods, turning away because she's wasted too much time already chit-chatting with this overgrown bush baby. "C'mon, help me collect the eggs."_

_"Of course." Snow skips - yeah, skips - to her side. "But first may I inquire __as to what your name is? I feel like we should-"_

_"Red." she interjects simply, distracted._

_"Red?"_

_She can hear the confusion in the girl's tone. "Yep." she nods nevertheless._

_"Red is a color."_

_"Seriously?" Red whips around, exasperated. "You are not one to talk. _Snow White_." She turns back to the task at hand and rolls her eyes scoffingly. "That's the most ridiculous name I've ever heard."_

_Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Snow's hands take up residence on her hips. Her eyes fit to the ceiling just as the shorter girl declares. "You are not nice."_

_Red scoffs back at her. "Tell me something I don't know, hobbit."_

_Snow's jaw slackens. "I am not a hobbit!"_

"She is _so_ a hobbit." Red nods, rolling her eyes. "Now granted she doesn't have their weird hairy feet but girlie is all kinds of short. Seriously. She'd make Olaf look like a fucking giant."

Red looks over, across the bed, at Elsa in time to see the the blonde lightly shake her head at her.

"You exaggerate."

"Do not." she scoffs smilingly, earning another small chuckle and roll of hazel eyes in response.

Elsa shifts her position. "So what happened next?" she inquires, after smoothing out a wrinkle in her dress.

"I had a persistent headache for the next week and a half." Red sighs airily, dropping her hand from underneath her head and sitting upright. There was more to the story than that but she didn't really feel like getting into it now.

"Okay. Story time over." As she pushes herself off the bed, she reaches over and pats the queen's leg. "Come on. Time to make up with your sister."

Elsa immediately protests. "But-"

Red cuts her off, shaking her head. "No. I told you how I met Snow. That was the deal. I talked, you listened. Now it's time for _you_ to talk to Anna." Red walks around the blonde's bed and stands in front of Elsa, hands resting on her hips. "I don't see why you're trying to delay this."

"I'm not delaying." Elsa instantly denies, rising to her feet. "I'm just giving Anna her space. Give her a moment to cool down."

"Cool down?" she can't help but scoff a gentle laugh. "Snowflake, hate to break it to you but Anna's about as mellow as you can get. If and when she gets angry, it's usually only for a split sec. She doesn't _stay_ mad. Especially not at you."

"She has every right to be though." Elsa murmurs, shaking her head. Her eyes shut briefly. "She was right. I _am_ still doing it. Shutting her out."

"No you aren't." she sighs.

Elsa turns away as Red nears closer, unconsciously glancing back at her door. "I may not lock myself away in my room anymore, but I...I still keep myself distanced from her."

"That's ridiculous." she frowns. "You spend time with her like, _all the time_."

Elsa shakes her head. "I don't mean physically. Just because I spend time with her that doesn't—I'm not—I just...I'm not as open with her as I should be." She finally manages out, looking nothing if not completely distraught. "She can talk about anything and everything—speak so freely with me. But me...I just..._can't_."

"Well that's because she's Anna and you're _you_." Red reminds her softly. "Talking to people, being open, it's not your thing. So you have a harder time with it. But hey," She tilts her head, coaxing the blonde into hesitantly meeting her gaze. "It's not like you're not trying. Cause you are. You make the effort. And as a result you're getting better. I mean look at us." Red encourages with a smirking grin. "You talk to me just fine. Hell these days you're even sassing me."

Elsa shakes her head, smiling faintly. "It's different with you." she says quietly, almost bashfully. "Easier."

"No, you're just being too hard on yourself." Red says knowingly. "Stop thinking about how you're supposed to be with her or how you think Anna wants you to be, and just be you. Just like you are with me."

She shrugs simply, then adds, "Or in other words, do yourself a favor and _chill out_."

Elsa stares at her and sighs, lips quirking in spite of her mild exasperation. "You just had to, didn't you?"

"Yep." Red nods, laughing, unashamed. "Shit like that you can't pass up."

Elsa just rolls her eyes.

"Oh don't act like you don't like my puns, snowflake." Red retorts, her own eyes playfully narrowed. "You know you think they're awesome."

"Awesome is definitely not the word I would use."

"Whatever." she scoffs, her smile just spreading. "C'mon." She takes Elsa's hand without warning and proceeds toward the door. "You've distracted me for far too long already."

"Wait a second." Elsa tugs her back, halting her movements just as her hand wraps around the doorknob. Naturally Red glances back to see what the hold up was.

"I just..." Elsa smiles sheepishly, her words faltering at the undivided attention she suddenly found herself with. Red squeezes her hand reassuringly. "Thank you." she eventually breathes out. "You're a good friend, Red."

Red matches Elsa's soft smile before allowing hers to morph into a smug one. "Psh."

She yanks open the door with one hand, keeping their fingers interlocked in the other. "Blondie, I'm the fucking _best_."

—

After checking Anna's bedroom and coming up empty-handed, Red and Elsa check the second most likely area Anna would be found hanging out in.

The kitchen.

And sure enough there she is, with Rapunzel, the two of them sitting up on the island counter together, gorging themselves with what looked to be the chocolate cake intended for tonight's dessert.

_So much for dinner_, Red thinks wryly, taking in the scene.

"Elsa!" Anna quickly sets down her slice of cake, catching sight of them the second the kitchen doors opened.

The young princess scrambles to her feet, nearly tripping over herself in her haste.

Elsa's fingers slip away from Red's own to meet her sister. "Anna-"

"I'm sorry." They both end up saying at the same time.

"No, _I'm_ sorry, Anna." Elsa sighs, while Anna just continues, "I shouldn't have blown up like that."

"No," Elsa shakes her head vehemently. "You had every right to be mad. You were hurt. I hurt you. _Again_."

"No, no." Anna waves her hands assuredly, grimacing apologetically, seeing the pain in her sister's eyes. "You didn't—I just—I totally overreacted. I blame the chocolate. Or my lack thereof. You know how grumpy I get when there's a lack of chocolate in my system."

"Anna, please." _Be serious_, her tone implies.

"I was just— I don't know—I guess I thought maybe you didn't trust me enough to talk to me and that kind of threw me in the worst way but-"

"Anna-" Elsa interjects, trying - and failing - to get out her apologizes.

"But I know that you do." Anna continues, cringing slightly at her own interruption. "Trust me, I mean. I _so_ know that now. Looking back I don't know how I ever thought you could ever _not_ trust me. I mean I'm your sister for Pete's sake. But it — just hearing the staff whispering reminded me of when we were growing up and you were locked up in your room and everyone would talk about it behind my back. And then having to hear about all this scary Evil Queen stuff from Kristoff, who got his information from the stable boy _of all people_—I mean the kid's like twelve—"

Rolling her eyes fondly at the strawberry blonde's ramblings, Red walks around and joins Rapunzel on the kitchen counter, then indulges in the blonde's offered slice of cake.

"Anna, you were right." Elsa steps forward and places her hands on her sister's shoulders, successfully cutting her off. "I should have told you what was going on a lot sooner. You have a responsibility to Arendelle just as much as I do and you should be well informed on any and every matter concerning it. I just..." Elsa's hands drop to her sides. "I was only trying to protect you. I didn't want to burden you with something I felt was my problem. I now realize my error in judgment. But rest assured this won't happen again. You have my word."

"Thanks. And I get it now, I just—_at the time_—"

"I know." Elsa gently interrupts, nodding understandingly.

"I'm just glad we cleared this all up." Anna sighs, getting back on track with her train of thought.

Elsa nods in agreement. "I am truly sorry Anna." she says once again, to assure that her sister did not have any doubts about that fact. "I never meant to hurt your feelings like that."

"It's okay, Elsa." Anna sighs, smiling. "I know you didn't."

"So...we're good?" Elsa has to clarify, still a little unsure.

"We were never bad." Anna confirms, laughing lightly.

Elsa visibly relaxes.

There's a moment's hesitation, and subsequent worrying of her lips, before Elsa ultimately beckons to her sister with inviting arms. "Come here."

Anna, though initially taken aback, more than willingly tackles her big sister for a hug.

Red would so make fun of the sight if it wasn't so freakin' charming.

Oh who is she kidding?

"Get a room." she teasingly groans around a loaded mouthful.

And goddamn this chocolate cake was _the bomb_.

Elsa looks over at her, a faint smile playing across her lips, then glances back at her sister's chocolate covered mouth. "Tell me you at least ate dinner first." she sighs, already with a slight inkling as to what her answer was going to be.

Anna, not-so-discreetly, eyes the covered tray on the stove. "Uh, _yeah_." She splutters a small scoff, meeting her sister's raised brow with feigned conviction. "Totally. So didn't spoil my dinner with dessert. No way." Anna profusely shakes her head. "Yup. Not. At. All."

"_Anna_." Elsa frowns in a mildly reproachful tone.

"What can I say." Anna shrugs innocently, her grin completely sheepish. "Rapunzel's a bad influence."

Beside Red, Rapunzel scoffs from the counter, looking indignant. "Am not!"

"_Anyways_." says Anna hurriedly in an octave higher than usual, determinedly ignoring her cousin's narrowed gaze. Turning on her heel, she picks up the last slice of cake off the counter and presents it to her sister with a proud, beaming smile. "Saved you a slice."

"Just a slice?" Elsa draws out questioningly, her brow quirked. Unable to help herself, she glances past Anna and sees that the cake plate, sure enough, had nothing but crumbs and residual frosting left on it.

"What? You wanted the _whole_ cake?" Anna scoffs, seeing where her sister's eyes had gone and casually stepping to the side to block her view. "Jeez. And you call _me_ the chocolate addict? Nice try, sister, but _I think not_."

"I can't believe you ate that entire cake on your own."

"Rapunzel helped." Anna is quick to remind. "And really it was not that big to begin with." she says, rolling her eyes. "I mean if anything it was more like a mini cake—"

"Mini cake, _right_." Red agrees dryly, meanwhile surveying the plate in question - the circumference of which was _larger than her head_.

"—or an abnormally large cupcake, if you will..."

"_Anna_," Elsa sighs. "You shouldn't eat so much sugar. It's bad for you."

Anna waves loftily, disbelieving. "Eh. I don't buy it. That's just one of those things people say like 'don't talk to strangers'. Which frankly I never understood. How are you supposed to make new friends if you don't talk to strangers? After all everyone you don't know is technically a stranger but does that stop people from talking to each other? Uh, _no_. And another thing—"

Sensing another long, unrelated tangent coming on, Red lightly nudges Rapunzel and nods her head toward the side door.

The two of them quietly slip out of the kitchen, figuring it best that they let the sisters have their bonding time.

Well, that and because Red needs a time-out from the Anna babble.

Rapunzel waits until they're out in the hallway before speaking up. "So..."

Red turns her attention away from her slice of cake in time to see the blonde giving her a rather smug sidelong glance.

"What was all that hand holding about when you came into the kitchen with Elsa, huh?"

Red just blinks, and chews. "What?" she asks, voice muffled, choosing in that moment to feign ignorance.

"_Red_."

Damn Rapunzel for seeing through her so easily.

"Sorry but my abuela always taught me never to talk with my mouth full." she says quickly before literally shoving the rest of her cake in her mouth.

When she dares make eye-contact with the blonde again, she sees Rapunzel looking suspiciously pleased, despite her not having said anything telling.

"Shove it, Goldilocks." she glares, her voice muffled, and her cheeks suddenly burning.

Rapunzel just laughs.

—

Later that night, Red wakes suddenly for no apparent reason.

Sitting upright, her heart pounds in her chest while she groggily tries to get her bearings. Annoyance is the first thing that registers when she realizes it was nowhere near time to get up for the day.

_Fucking a__—_

Silently groaning, Red eases herself back into the mattress and clamps her eyes shut. She tries to will herself back to sleep as quickly as possible but it proves difficult, as she suddenly finds herself feeling inexplicably uneasy.

Something wasn't right.

Red pushes herself forward, more alert than before. Then glances over her shoulder, at Rapunzel, who was still sleeping soundly beside her, cocooned within the blankets.

Unsure of what to make of whatever this was that she was sensing, Red utilizes her heightened sense of hearing to see if that might help get her some answers.

Being that the room is so quiet, she's easily able to pick up on the faint noise coming from out in the hallway.

Footsteps.

Red frowns slightly as she glances back at the door. _Who'd be up at this hour?_

Turning back to her sleeping friend, Red leans forward and begins gently shaking her. "Rapunzel." she whispers. "Hey. Rapunzel. Wake up."

"Five more minutes." the blonde grumbles, shifting away from the contact.

"Rapunzel." she sighs seriously, her tone becoming more insistent. "Something's up."

Rapunzel rolls onto her side. "What do you mean?" she yawns, pushing back the covers a little.

Red shakes her head. "Dunno. I just feel like something isn't right." she murmurs, slipping out of bed without much thought. "Come on."

"You and your gut instincts." Rapunzel sighs tiredly, grudgingly shimmying her way out from beneath the blankets.

"Don't hate. Remember once upon a time my gut instincts were the only reason I was able to save your pretty ass from that loon you called mother."

"Yeah, yeah. I know." Rapunzel grumbles, following closely behind her. "You never let me forget it."

"You're grouchy." she comments, leading the way down the litted hallway.

"It's like two o'clock in the morning and you made me leave our nice warm bed. Why wouldn't I be grouchy?"

"Because you are not a grouchy person..._except_ when you aren't feeling well." She glances back at the blonde, brow raised knowingly. "It was all that cake."

Rapunzel grimaces guiltily, hand resting tenderly on her stomach. "I think it's safe to say if I've had my fill of chocolate for one lifetime."

Red playfully rolls her eyes at her. "You say that now."

"I don't know how Anna does it."

She just laughs.

Heading down the stairs, they're able to pick up on the voices coming from the foyer. It does not go unnoticed by Red how much colder the air was down here.

Once they reach the foot of the stairs, they're met with the sight of Elsa speaking privately to a few members of her guard.

"I want every inch of the castle searched." Red hears her say. "No corner left unchecked."

"But your majesty, we already-"

"Then check again." Elsa interrupts with the slightest edge in her voice. "And where is Kristoff?" She turns her head expectantly, then stops, seeing Red and Rapunzel standing there instead.

"What's going on?" Red hears herself ask cautiously, the tense atmosphere worrying her more than she cared to admit. It really didn't help none that Elsa looked beyond distressed.

There's a moment's silence before the blonde reveals with some hesitance. "Anna's gone."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean she's not in her room. She's not anywhere." Elsa says quietly, crossing her arms over her chest like it would help her to keep it together.

"What happened then?" Red frowns, not understanding. "Weren't you the last one with her?"

Elsa shakes her head. "No. Last I saw of Anna she said she was going to visit Kristoff at the stables. Just now I went to check up on her before I retired, make sure she was _alright_."

Or rather, make sure she wasn't still out with Kristoff, doing Lord knows what, Elsa's voice implied.

The only reason Red was able to read into her tone so well was because they've talked about Elsa's reservations regarding her younger sister's relationship before. Elsa felt she was too young to be dating seriously like that.

"But she wasn't in her room." Elsa continues, no less distraught. "Her bed was still unmade, and the windows were wide open..."

"Elsa!" Red turns her head in time to see Kristoff hurrying over to them, two guards on his heels. His eyes widen as he registers his slip-up. " I-I mean—your queen—my majesty." he fumbles with his words, wincing as a result. "What's—where's Anna?"

"I had hoped she was with you." Elsa sighs, his obliviousness answering her queries, albeit not in the way she wanted.

"She's not with me." Kristoff frowns. "Why would she be with me? Especially so late? I mean it's not like we hang out at night...alone." His face just reddens as he rambles. "I mean we do—sometimes—but not—we don't—I've never..."

"_Breathe_, ice man." Red advises, lightly shaking her head at him.

She's pretty sure there was no guy in existence better suited for Anna.

Kristoff does as she suggests, then stops. "Wait." His brow furrows in confusion and concern. "Is Anna—she's okay, right?"

"That has yet to be determined." Elsa says regretfully. "We can't find her." she explains, at his questioning expression.

Kristoff's eyes widen in alarm. "What do you mean?"

"More like was kidnapped." Red mutters, eyes widening the second she realizes that yeah, she'd totally said that out loud.

"What?" she frowns defensively at the looks she receives. "Don't act like it hadn't crossed your mind." she says in particular to Elsa, who just looks away, thereby proving her point.

"The Evil Queen's messenger boys come here, Elsa flat out rejects her request. They leave in a suspiciously amicable manner, and then the next thing we know Anna is suddenly MIA. It makes total sense."

"Every one of her men was escorted from the premises." Elsa argues. "And ever since the incident with Hans, our castle has had round the clock protection. It would be impossible for someone to just snatch her and disappear into the night undetected."

"Yeah," Kristoff nods agreeingly. "And besides Anna's not some damsel that can just be _kidnapped_. I mean, she's got spunk. She wouldn't go down without a fight. Or at least, without causing some kind of commotion to alert somebody."

"I bet you it was that James guy." Red shakes her head, jaw clenching. "I knew something was off the second he and those Black Knights just up and left. They probably fucking planned this." she groans, realizing just how fucking obvious it was now.

"Kidnapping Anna would pretty much secure Elsa's compliance." Rapunzel nods, seeing the logic.

Red just continues to shakes her head. Blackmail, _of course_.

"Andolf." Elsa's summons the guard forward. "Are you absolutely sure every one of the Evil Queen's men boarded the ship?"

"Yes, your majesty. I...believe so, yes."

"You believe so?" she scoffs, her eyes fitting to the ceiling. "Órale."

"Red." Elsa warns, shooting her a look.

Another guard comes to address his queen. "No sight of the princess, your majesty."

"Thank you, Fredrik." Elsa sighs. "See to it my horse is prepared right away, please."

Red's brow furrows. "What do you think you're gonna do?" she inquires, stepping forward as the guard hurries to action.

"What do you think?" Elsa says rather sharply. "I'm going after my sister."

"But you don't know where she is."

"But I knew who took her." she retorts, no less deterred.

Andolf steps forward. "Your majesty, please. Allow me to send out a task force."

Elsa shakes her head, already turning on her heel. "I haven't the time for that."

Kristoff hurries into her path to stop her. "But Elsa you're queen. You can't just leave Arendelle defenseless. Remember what happened last time?" He hesitates before prompting, "_Hans_?"

Elsa's eyes darken at the name, and the reminder it brought. "This is nothing like last time. And Arendelle is not defenseless. We may be small but our militia is beyond equipped to handle anything."

"Your majesty, Elsa, please think about this. If the Evil Queen really is behind this then you leaving to come and get Anna is exactly what she wants. You'll be playing right into her trap."

"I will not abandon my sister." Elsa sidesteps out of his way and continues forward. Red and Rapunzel immediately follow her lead. "I've nearly lost her twice now. I will not let it happen a third."

"Then let me go then." Kristoff begs, following after her. "I'll bring her back whatever it takes. You know I will."

Elsa shakes her head. "I need to do this myself. Besides Anna would never forgive me if something happened to you. Just stay here where it is safe. In my absence I'll need someone to keep an eye out on things, aide the council. I trust your judgment, Kristoff."

Elsa stops suddenly and turns toward Andolf. "Word must not get out that Anna is missing. I don't want to cause a panic. People are probably unnerved enough as it is and when those Black Knights came marching through the village."

She quickly glances back at Kristoff. "And if Arendelle is in need of dire protection, bring Marshmallow down from the North Mountain. He knows you are a friend to me and trusts you."

Without another word Elsa waves her hand, sending the castle entrance's double doors flying open, and strides outside.

"But Elsa—"

"Please Kristoff," Elsa sighs, growing frustrated. "Every second I spend here talking about it is one less second I could be spending finding Anna."

"Your Majesty, I beg of you. Listen to the boy. Or at the very least allow us time to gather a team to accompany you. We can set sail as soon as daybreak."

"This is a matter that cannot wait. And while I appreciate your concern Andolf, I am perfectly capable of handling myself. I don't require a team." Elsa stops and finally turns around. "Now I need to leave immediately. I don't have time to waste."

"How exactly do you expect to get out of Arendelle on a horse, exactly?" Red demands, arms firmly crossed. "Because if you've already forgotten, this whole place is surrounded by water. Which means you're gonna need a fucking ship. Unless you plan on going mermaid status and swimming all the way there."

Elsa, without taking her eyes off her, extends her left hand toward the fjord. Red turns her head in time to see her magic successfully freeze a path of water into ice as far as the eye could see.

"Don't worry I'll unfreeze it once I reach land." Elsa murmurs, turning away from her handiwork. "It won't affect the rest of the fjord."

"Your majesty, it is quite a journey. Please, _reconsider_—"

"I'm through talking about this, Andolf." Elsa says as calmly as she can. "My mind is made up. Now if you please, see to it that my horse is prepared."

"And mine." Rapunzel throws in suddenly, much to everyone's surprise. "We're going with you." she says, the subject not up for debate.

"That isn't necessary."

"You'll need back up." Red nods, stepping forward.

"I'll be just fine on my own." Elsa disagrees. "Besides I don't want you getting involved."

"We're already involved." Red scoffs.

"Yeah, Anna's my family. And I help my family." Rapunzel frowns seriously.

"And _I_ help Rapunzel."

"Let me amend my previous statement." Elsa stares at them both with unamused eyes. "I don't want you getting hurt, or worse. And anyways, family or not, this is _my_ business."

"Your business is our business."

Rapunzel nods, crossing her arms defiantly. "You can't stop us."

"Besides we know the terrain better than you do. You've never even left your kingdom before. And running away to the mountains doesn't fucking count." Red adds quickly, seeing her open her mouth in objection. "You need us."

"No, I don't." Elsa denies coldly.

Red rolls her eyes, huffing in frustration. "You are one fucking stubborn rubia, you know that?"

Elsa turns to leave again. "Just go back to bed, Red."

"Not while you're like this." Lightning fast, she latches onto the blonde's forearm and lifts up her frosted hand.

Elsa yanks her arm back, glaring deeply at her. "I'm fine." she maintains, in spite of what Red thinks.

"I know for a fact that you aren't so don't try that bull with me." Red says, temper flaring.

Rapunzel shoots her a warning glance, then turns back to Elsa. "Just let us help." she says in a softer tone, moving closer.

Elsa shuts her eyes and breathes through her nose. She looks overwhelmed, defeated. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

"Neither do you." Red lightly scoffs, though serious. "That's why it's best, for all our sakes, that we stick together."

Elsa keeps her arms crossed, unable to meet her gaze. The air around them keeps on getting crisper, Red can feel. Any minute now and the snow flurries would bound to start.

"Elsa, hey," she begins cautiously, stepping forward. Without thinking, she shifts her hand until it finds Elsa's cool one. "Breathe."

Elsa complies, albeit it shakily, and Red squeezes her fingers in assurance.

"We're gonna get her back." she continues, her promising tone enough to coax Elsa into finally lifting her head. "Come hell or high water."

"Preach!"

Elsa manages a faint smile at Rapunzel's attempt to lighten the mood; Red just chuckles.

"But you do realize," Red glances back at the blonde whose hand she was still holding and smiles helplessly. Elsa stares up at her, brow quirked questioningly. "That you coming with me means you'll have to ride a horse, right?"

And just like that her smile evaporates.

Crap. She hadn't thought about that.

"Get ready to saddle up, Red." Rapunzel laughs, coming up beside her and patting her shoulder.

Unamused, her gaze snaps to Elsa. "You are so gonna fucking owe me for this, Blondie."

"I already do." she smiles, her eyes soft.

"No seriously." Red deadpans. "If goddamn horses are involved I demand compensation. Lifetime supply of garlic bread upfront. Right now."

Elsa stares at her incredulously. "Need I remind you that joining me was _your_ idea?"

"Irrelevant."

"Ridiculous is more like it." Elsa scoffs.

"You better feed her, Elsa." Rapunzel warns knowingly. "Otherwise she'll bitch the entire way."

"I will no—" Red stops. Thinks about for a second, then nods. "Yeah, actually I probably will."

—

"_God damn_."

Uncomfortable to say the least, Red shifts carefully, trying valiantly not to fall off the horse she's been riding for what feels like months. "I don't know about you two but my lady business feels like it's in distress."

She's so fucking sore — and not even the _good_ kind of sore — and all because of a fucking horse.

_And that sentence doesn't at all sound wrong_.

Jesus. This is why she fucking walks everywhere she goes. Horses are so overrated.

"Seriously, though." Red slows her - technically Anna's - horse's pace. "Can we like take a break?"

"There isn't time." Elsa sighs, leading the way on Sitron, her horse. "We need to keep moving. We still have a long journey ahead of us."

"This fucking sucks." Red huffs, exasperated. And cranky. They've been riding non-stop since last night and it was already well into morning.

"If you're this unhappy, you're free to turn around and return to Arendelle. Or your home, whichever you prefer." Elsa replies, casting a glance over her shoulder. "I'm perfectly capable of making this journey on my own."

"Psh. _Yeah right_." she scoffs, still grimacing. "You're gonna need all the backup you can get, snowflake. You don't even have a fucking plan."

Elsa glares back at her.

Red just glares right back.

"Well if worst comes to worst," Rapunzel speaks up. "You two will be relieved to know I brought my handy dandy frying pan with me."

Red inadvertently flinches when Blondie pulls said item out of her satchel and starts waving it around in the air.

Some things you just don't get over.

Elsa's gaze falls back forward. "Tree up ahead." she declares, reluctantly bringing Sitron to a stop. Red looks up and sure enough, a few feet away there was a fallen tree trunk blocking their path.

"We're going to have to jump over it." Elsa sighs, already in the process of turning Sitron around.

"Jump?" Red looks back at the tree and scoffs. "Uh, _hell no_."

Once her horse was stopped, she hops off the beast without hesitation. "No way. I'm pretty sure I dislocated my vagina on that jump over the ravine a while back. I am so not doing putting myself through that again."

"If you dislocated your vagina then doing this jump would probably pop it back into place." Rapunzel reasons logically.

"Or prevent me from ever having children." she glares.

Elsa clears her throat out of discomfort. "Do you mind?" Her eyes dart around self-consciously, her voice low. "This is hardly an appropriate discussion to be having."

Red's brow furrows. "Why not? We're out here all alone. It's not like anyone's listening."

"Let's just move on, shall we?" Elsa huffs irritably, shaking her head. "We're wasting time."

Red rolls her eyes, but acquiesces, knowing if their roles were reversed she'd probably be acting just as impatient.

Turning, she grudgingly lifts her foot back into the stirrup, but not without muttering a few expletives under her breath.

She's just about to pull herself up when she hears something whiz by her head.

Red doesn't even have time to register what the fuck it even was before the horses decide to go ape shit on them. Hers in particular rears back, spooked by the sudden movement, and knocks her back flat on her ass.

Whipping her attention to the tree beside her, she sees an arrow clear as day lodged within the bark. "The fuck?"

Red turns her head, eyes narrowing instantly. She lifts her gaze to the trees across the way, having quickly estimated from that arrow's placement that wherever it'd come from had been from up above.

_And sure enough_.

"Red, are you alright?" Rapunzel and Elsa are still trying to calm their skittish horses.

She locks eyes on their culprit as he's climbing down from his post in a nearby tree. "Will be in a second." she growls, pushing herself upright.

On her way up she snatches a rock from the ground, then once standing, hurls it right at the moron who dared mess with her.

She knocks him right outta the goddamn tree.

_Bulls-eye_, she smirks.

"Red!" she hears Elsa admonish.

"You're kidding, right?" she exclaims over her shoulder, hurrying to catch the guy before he could recover.

_That fool done near decapitated me!_

"Red, are you insane?" she faintly hears Rapunzel call after her.

_No, I'm badass_, she retorts inside her head, after successfully tackling their guy back to the ground.

She forces him onto his back and pulls back her arm, fist at the ready—

"Stop right there!"

Red pauses, registering the presence behind her.

Wait a minute.

_I know that voice_.

"Snow?"

Red whips around, incredulous.

The girl in question drops the bow previously aimed at her face. She pulls back her hood instantly. "Red?"

There's a moment of silent gawking before they end up asking each other, at the same time, "What are you doing here?"

"You two know each other?" the guy still trapped beneath Red grunts, pushing himself up on his elbows.

Snow sees his gaping head wound and gasps. She rounds on Red accusingly. "What did you do?"

"What did _he _do is the better question." she grumbles, moving off him and promptly standing up. "He tried to fucking kill me."

The guy in question rolls his eyes and gets to his feet on his own, "If I'd wanted to kill you I wouldn't have missed my mark." he scoffs, disgruntedly brushing himself off. "I just wanted to scare you."

"Are you alright?" Snow inquires, wincing sympathetically at his wound.

"Fine, princess." he assures, bending to pick up his bow. As he straightens, he levels a smirk her way. "Fortunately the lady in red here didn't break my stud face."

Red rolls her eyes. _So he's one of those_.

"I'm sorry, Red." Snow apologizes profusely, attempting to help brush off her cloak. "I didn't know it was you."

She swats Snow's hobbit hands away. "Who else do you know who wears a bright red cloak?" she scoffs, unappeased.

"Red!"

Red glances over in time to see Rapunzel and Elsa coming toward them.

"I'm fine guys." she nods, holding up her hands to prevent Rapunzel from inadvertently clocking someone with her frying pan.

Her blondes exchange wary glances, but don't try anything hasty.

"Now you mind telling me why you fucking attacked us?" Red snaps, whirling around to face the guy. Before he can answer though, she directs another question at Snow. "And why are you hanging around with this loser?" she demands.

"Better question is, who are you?" the guy glares, gingerly rubbing his shoulder. "And how do you know Snow?"

"Snow?" Rapunzel interjects, surprised. "As in Snow White?"

"The one and only." Snow confirms with an awkward smile.

"She's an old friend of mine." Red explains before shooting the dwarf narrowed look. "Or at least I _thought_ she was. What, you hire this tool to kill your step-mom if she ever happened to roll through this neck of the woods in her carriage?"

"Of course not." Snow crosses her arms indignantly. Anyone who knew her knew she was incapable of hurting another living creature. Even one as vile as her psychotic step-mother.

"I saw the royal insignia on your horse's gear." the guy says like that explains anything.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"I can explain." Snow smoothly cuts in.

Red's eyes fit to the sky. _And here we go_.

"You see Robin here makes a living robbing people-"

Red drops her gaze. "_Seriously_, Snow?" She shakes her head in disbelief. "Tell me you're not really fucking hanging out with goddamn thugs."

"Is he holding you captive?" Rapunzel leans in to whisper, then says behind her hand. "Blink twice if he is."

"No. No." Snow waves her hands. "He's my friend, I assure you. And he's a good person. You see he has this _code_..."

"Steal from the rich, give to the poor." the guy supplies with a proudly upturned chin. "It's not like they'll miss it." he shrugs.

"That doesn't make it right." Elsa frowns.

Robin turns his head and gives her the once-over, while Red stares with a locked jaw. "Says the girl decked out in diamonds." he scoffs.

Elsa noticeably stiffens. "Ice crystals." she corrects curtly. "And I made this dress myself. I have no need for jewels."

"Now normally I wouldn't condone Robin's lifestyle choices," begins Snow, reverting back to what she was trying to explain, "However admirable, but desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Robin?" Red scoffs, the name just registering.

"Yeah. Robin. As in _Robin Hood_." he says as if she's supposed to be familiar with the name.

Which she's not.

"If you gotta thing for birds you should at least go with something that sounds somewhat cool." she scoffs, unimpressed. "Like Sparrow or..."

"Magpie." Rapunzel suggests.

Red just shakes her head and allows her gaze to fall back to Snow. "Seriously, dwarf. I thought you were looking to get out of the kingdom."

"_I am_." she sighs, eyes widening insistently. "But unfortunately it seems that getting anywhere has a price and being an outlaw without a cent to her name, I've had to resort to certain means."

"You mean by robbing people?" Red raises her brow, still having a hard time wrapping her head around this whole thing. "Have you lost your fucking mind?"

"Of course not." Snow's cheeks flush. "I just..." Her gaze finds Rapunzel and Elsa. "So who are your friends?" she inquires quite keenly, failing at subtly changing the subject.

"That's Rapunzel, you remember me telling you about her? And that's her cousin, Elsa, Queen of Arendelle." Red introduces while fixating the short brunette with a look that basically read, _we're going to talk about this._

But Snow pays her no attention. She curtsies to Rapunzel and then to Elsa. She may be an outlaw now but that didn't mean she suddenly lost her manners.

"Your Majesty."

"Princess." Elsa nods in kind, managing a faint smile toward her.

Snow straightens, then sheepishly tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Ex-princess, technically."

Elsa doesn't seem to think so. "One never stops being of royal blood, now do they?" she asks, her brow quirked.

Snow returns her smile with a slight sigh. "Tell that to my stepmother." She turns to Red after noticing how she was watching them interact. "Hanging out with royals seems to have become a preference for you, hasn't it Red?" she teases good-naturedly.

"Bite me, dwarf." Red playfully glares.

"Robin!" Just then out of the brush comes a handful of guys running toward them. The tall one leading the way spots Snow first and immediately hurries to her side. "Snow, are you alright?"

Red's smile drops faster than a prostitute's underwear. "_You_."

The behemoth looks back at her, unsuspecting, and immediately rears back, of course recognizing her. "You." he utters in return, wide-eyed and suddenly scared as fuck.

As he should be.

"_Yeah_, me." With murder in her eyes (or so it feels), she stalks closer, ready to just fucking let him have it. "I fucking told you if I ever saw you again..."

Red trails off and lets her actions do the talking for her. Walking right up to his gigantor frame, she winds back her arm before knocking the shit out of his dopey face.

* * *

**AN: Sorry I had to end it there. I had much more planned - more characters to introduce - but if I didn't leave it here, you'd guys would have to wait like another month for me to finish what I originally had planned.**

**For the next chapter: Some glee club bonding, ie: A Rachel Berry House Party Train-Wreck Extravaganza. What will happen at that party, who knows?**

**But if the show was any indication, alcohol seems to do wonders for Quinntana...**

**So yeah, you don't want to miss it. (Not gonna lie, super excited for this next chapter!)**

**Anyways, thank you for the continued support, patience, and wonderful reviews! I'm glad you all are enjoying the story! I have great plans for it so hopefully I get you all to stick around!**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: You guys are just awesome. Plain and simple. Again, apologies for the long wait. I'd update sooner if I could, believe me.  
**

**On the bright side, this is the longest chapter so far and it's basically just a bunch of sweet Quinntana-ness! So hopefully you all think it's alright.**

**Any who, while you all read this I'm going to start my birthday celebration a little early, so enjoy!  
**

* * *

Santana has a dilemma.

A _serious_ one.

One of epic proportions.

The kind where if she doesn't find a solution soon, she might just keel over and drop dead to the ground.

How embarrassing to die in the school cafeteria, _of all places_.

She _has_ to think of something quick before the starvation kicks in and shit gets real.

Lunch in hand, Santana sits and stares at the mini bottle of _Mother Lupita's Diablo Blood_ hot sauce on the table, wondering desperately how to get that spicy goodness on her currently sauce-less burrito.

You see, Brittany had commandeered her right hand and was using it as a canvas to draw her doodles on, and her left hand was busy holding her burrito...which left her with no way of getting to her sauce.

Hence the dilemma.

She couldn't very well take her arm back - Brittany was having one of her obsessive artiste moments and had threatened to shank her with her pen if she dared move - and Santana sure as hell wasn't about to let go of her burrito.

Meanwhile Quinn's sitting across from them, babbling on about complex numbers or some shit she could care less about, but probably _should_ care about since she's like one test away from flunking Algebra...or Geometry...Astronomy - whatever the fuck math it is she's taking this year.

"Santana, are you even _listening_ to me?"

"Yeah. Uh-huh. Sure." Nodding her head distractedly, Santana juts her chin toward the small bottle mocking her on the table. "Do me a favor, Q-Tip. Poor me some more of that sauce on this here burrito, _por favor_."

Quinn stares at her, brow raised. "And you can't do it yourself, _why?_"

"Seriously, Fabray?" Once her eyes finish their rotation inside her head, she cocks her head to the side for necessary emphasis. "Does it _look_ like I have a free hand?"

Quinn stares at her like she's lost her mind. "Just set down the burrito."

Now it's Santana's turn. "Are you nuts?" she scoffs, eyes wide.

"No," Quinn starts off cautiously. "But I'm starting to think _you_ might be."

Unamused, Santana lifts up her burrito. "I let go of this bad boy and it'll fall apart."

"Well you shouldn't have overloaded it." Quinn responds easily enough, taking no pity in her plight.

"I knew I was gonna be hungry!" she huffs out her exasperation before deciding to take on a different approach. "C'mon, Q. Help a homegirl out."

With pleading eyes, she extends her arm across the table, pushing her burrito toward the blonde. "Sauce me, please."

Quinn eyes her burrito - and the mess of rice and beans that threatened to spill out - and carefully moves her textbook out from under it. "You're a big girl, Santana. You are perfectly capable of saucing yourself."

"Wanky." Brittany smirks to herself.

"Am not." Santana whines, ignoring the fact that Brittany totally hijacked her catchphrase. "C'mon, Snowflake. Necessito tu ayuda!"

"If you're unwilling to let go of your burrito then just eat it without the sauce." Quinn sighs. "What's the big deal?"

"_What's the big deal?" _She pulls back, affronted, before loudly scoffing. "Seriously? Eating a burrito without hot sauce is like eating a waffle without syrup. French fries without ketchup..."

"Jelly without Peanut Butter." Brittany offers absentmindedly.

Santana throws her hands up. "Exactly!"

"Santana!" Brittany groans, the Latina's sudden arm movement causing her to accidentally drawn a line through what she was working on.

"You're ridiculous." Quinn continues uninterrupted. "And also very lazy."

Brittany lifts her head, momentarily distracted. "She's...razy?" Her brow furrows.

Santana shifts her narrowed gaze. "Bitch, I am not lazy. I am handicapped. Now are you going to help me out or not?"

At Quinn's heavy sigh, Santana feels her lips quirk up into a triumphant smirk. She knows well enough what that sound means.

"If I do, are you finally going to start paying attention?" Quinn inquires, referring back to their textbook. "Because I'm only doing this because you said you needed help for your test, you know. If you're fine with failing, please just say so, so I can stop wasting my time."

Santana rolls her eyes grandly and throws her head back. "Jeez. You are _sooo_ dramatic. Yes, I'll start paying attention. If you just..." Her words trail off when Quinn grabs the bottle of hot sauce, uncaps it, and starts shaking a generous amount onto her burrito.

_Oh hells yes._

"You're a godsend, Fabray." Santana sighs, smiling sweetly at her when she finishes.

Where in Santana than_ more than happily_ indulges in her burrito.

Quinn rolls her eyes, albeit it fondly. "And you're a child. Now," She pulls her textbook back in front of her and skims down a couple paragraphs. "Where were we? Ah yes, so if you have i to the fifth power, you get—"

"Wait." Santana stops and chews, then swallows. "What the hell is _i?_"

"The "i" stands for an imaginary number." Quinn explains, staring at her somewhat incredulously.

"Hold up. There are _imaginary_ numbers now?" she scoffs. "What, in the next chapter are we gonna learn how to calculate the circumference of a unicorn's ass?"

"I wish." Brittany says, looking up enough to sigh longingly.

"Santana, how on earth did you get into Calculus without knowing a thing about imaginary numbers?"

Shaking her head, Santana tears into her burrito again. "Why can't they teach us useful shit, like balancing a fucking checkbook?" she inquires through a full mouth. "Or at the very least how to make a decent margarita?"

"In need of some booze, Lopez?"

Santana groans irritably, identifying that voice instantly. "What do you want, Puckerman?"

She turns her head in time to see Puck come around their table. He pulls up a chair and sits backward on it. "Ouch. What's with the hostility, my little chimichanga?"

"Fucking racist." she grits out, still chewing.

Puck just smirks, more amused than anything, before turning to acknowledge the two blondes sitting on either side of him. "Sup ladies. You three got any plans tonight?"

"Santana has a math test to study for." Quinn answers for them, making a point of staring at the Latina.

Santana just scowls unhappily.

Puck rolls his eyes. "Lame."

Santana glares back at him, annoyed. "What'd you have in mind, Puckerman?"

"The Rabbit Hole." he scoffs, incredulous that he needed to explain himself. "Half off beer and appetizers."

"The Rabbit Hole." Quinn frowns at the vaguely familiar name. "You mean the bar?"

"Where else?" Puck turns back to Santana expectantly. "So what do you say, Lopez? You in? My guys, your girls. We'll make a party of it. Play pool. Hang."

Santana considers this while she chews. True Puck was kind of annoying and a total moron, but he was a moron who knew how to have a good time.

And frankly she can't think of a better way to de-stress for her upcoming test than to indulge in some free beer and buffalo wings.

"I highly doubt they'll serve us." Quinn interjects, unsurprisingly skeptical. "We're not old enough to drink."

"Nah. They don't card." she assures. She should know - she's been there with Puck plenty of times. "A paying customer is a paying customer. Just wave them an id - any id - and as long as we don't make a scene or anything, we can eat and drink all we want."

"But drinking in the middle of the week and on a school night, no less?" Quinn continues, no less convinced.

"It's the perfect time." Puck reasons. "I mean, how else are we gonna make it through until Friday?"

"Preach!" Brittany grins, the two then exchanging high fives. "You can count me in."

"Me too." Santana smirks.

Quinn brings back her attention. "Uh, Santana, you have to study, remember?"

"Come on Fabray, live a little." Puck implores, after Santana groans. She swears Blondie was sometimes too much of a goody two shoes.

"We can study after." she sighs, staring at the blonde earnestly. "Promise."

"I highly doubt you'll be any good at concentrating when you're inebriated, Santana."

Santana has to resist the urge to roll her eyes. "I won't drink a lot. I'll be good...to an extent."

She murmurs that last part under her breath to which Puck smirks.

Quinn shakes her head. "It's your grade." she sighs, closing her textbook when the warning bell rings.

Puck gets up out of his chair. "Later shiksas. Puckasaurus out."

"Later." Santana waits until Brittany finishes taking a few snapshots of her drawing before standing. Glancing down, she sees that the blonde had tattooed a freaking mural on her forearm. The theme was fairy tale characters and had everything from the three little pigs and the big bad wolf (her favorite) to Goldilocks and the three bears.

Too bad she was gonna have to wash it all off when she got home.

Sighing, Santana begins gathering up her things. She's just about to stuff her hot sauce back in her purse when Quinn snatches it up out of nowhere.

Santana lifts her gaze and scoffs. "Uh, _excuse you?_"

"Pass your test with a C or better and I'll give it back." Quinn says with a simple shrug before depositing the bottle in her own bag.

Santana just stares with her brow raised. Was snowflake _seriously_ highjacking her sauce?

Okay. Whatever.

Not like she needs it to survive or anything.

(Cause she doesn't).

"Psh." Playing it casual, she shrugs it off uncaringly. "Keep it. I can easily go out and buy another."

"Fine. You do that."

Her eyes narrow. "Fine. I will."

Quinn just smiles and starts them off toward the exit.

Brittany waits until she's started to walk away before leaning into Santana. "But isn't that the hot sauce you have imported from Guatemala?"

Santana just nods, grimacing slightly.

"And doesn't it take like, _three weeks_ to ship?"

"Yeah." she grumbles miserably.

"And didn't you say that was your last bottle?"

"Yeah, B." Santana's jaw clenches. She really didn't need the fucking reminder.

Brittany scoffs a chuckle, then steals a sidelong glance at her. "You better pass that test then." she smirks, clasping her shoulder.

"You're telling me." Santana grits out, turning and stalking after the blonde she _swears_ one day was gonna be the death of her.

—

The Rabbit Hole.

As far as bars go, it's pretty alright. A little too on the hipster side for her tastes, what with its Alice in Wonderland theme and its' bartender's love of guy-liner and his stupid thrift store top hat, but whatever. Their amazeballs food and jack load of alcohol more than made up for that fact.

"Anyone up for a game of darts?"

In the midst of sipping her beer, Santana feels her eyes roll at Puckerman's completely unsurprising suggestion.

"C'mon dudes." Puck scoffs indignantly after he's met with several refusals - everyone in the group knows by now to not even bother going up against him in a game.

Amused, Santana merely shakes her head when he sets his sights on Quinn.

Well, _almost_ everyone, she should say.

"Whatcha say, Fabray?" he asks, lifting his chin at her expectantly. "Wanna play?"

"Don't do it, Q." Santana advises knowingly, interjecting with a smirk. "He's a total con-artist. Not to mention a freak of nature."

At Quinn's adorably confused brow, she explains with a slight laugh, "He only ever hits bullseyes."

"Don't hate the player, Lopez." Puck smirks, not one to deny the fact.

Quinn sets down her drink - a simple Shirley Temple - her brow furrowed doubtfully. "He can't hit them _every_ time." she says, shaking her head.

"Oh but he can." Mike attests with a firm nod.

Santana nods too. She would know - she's lost many a buck betting against Puck going in with that same mindset.

(It's her own damn fault. She's too competitive for her own good).

"C'mon, Fabray." Puck implores, standing and beckoning to her to follow him. "No bets. Promise. Just a friendly game."

"Okay. Fine." Quinn relents with a small sigh, sensing he wasn't going to give up.

"See I knew _she_ was cool." Puck says, directing a pointed look back at his friends.

Once Quinn's at his side, he drapes a casual arm around her shoulders and starts them off toward the dart board across the way. "C'mon, babe. Let the _Dart Master_ show you how it's done."

Santana chortles, not only at his lamer than lame nickname for himself but at the way Quinn politely lifts his hand off her shoulder.

As the pair walks off together, Santana resumes her drinking, unconcerned. Puck was a pathological flirt for sure but a harmless one. Besides he already tried to hit on Quinn once before and Santana knows he hasn't forgotten what she did to him for that.

And anyways she has bigger fish to fry. Like their waitress.

Seriously. It's been like half an hour. Where the _hell_ are her buffalo wings?

—

Sometime later, while Santana's happily getting her grub on by herself - everyone else had scattered - Puck rejoins her at the table.

"Heads up, Lopez." he says as way of warning, sliding into the empty stool beside her.

"Huh?"

"_Dude_," Puck looks at her incredulously. "Drop the wings and go protect your claim." he says, gesturing back to pool tables where Quinn and Brittany were, laughing it up with Finn and the rest of Puck's guys.

Santana grudgingly lifts her head to shoot him a withering glare (much like the one she's been throwing to every sleazebag who's hit on her tonight). "One, don't call me _dude_. Two, Quinn is a fucking person, not property. And three, even if she was, which she's not, she sure as hell ain't mine."

"_Bullshit_." Puck scoffs, emphasizing both syllables. "She is so yours. Why else would you never let a guy get within five feet with her?"

"Because all the guys that approach her are just looking to get fucked." she snaps, her eyes narrowing dangerously when he reaches out and casually takes a wing off her plate. "They don't actually care about her."

Puck shakes his head. "Man you've got it _bad_." he says, laughing around a mouthful.

"I ain't got shit, Puckerman." she scowls, meanwhile sucking the buffalo sauce off her thumb. "And what the hell are you talking about?"

"You've got the hots for Quinn." he states with a simple shrug.

"I do not."

"You are so in denial." he smirks, enjoying the way her eyes had widened and her face now burned with a deep set blush. "That's hilarious."

"Shove it, Puckerman." she glares, yanking her plate closer when he tries to steal another wing. "I am not in denial."

"That just proves it." Puck picks up a random beer bottle off the table and downs the rest of its contents. "And anyways if you hadn't already noticed Quinn's attracting just about every sleaze in the joint." he says, jerking his head to the side. "Eleven o'clock. Buff dude in flannel."

Santana turns her head and follows Puck's line of sight. Her gaze lands on tall guy - as Puck described - in his early 20's standing off to the side, eyeing Quinn like a fucking cat would an unsuspecting canary. He was practically licking his chaps and everything.

"Getting _jealous_, Lopez?"

Santana looks away long enough to see Puck playfully cocking an eyebrow at her.

"Of course not." she snorts, but meanwhile her gaze flickers back to check on Quinn.

"Lopez, that punk's getting ready to move in on your turf." he exclaims, leaning forward. "You really just gonna sit here and stuff your face like a little pussy and watch it happen?"

"It's not my turf." she grits out in annoyance. "And Quinn is not my...girlfriend." she hisses quietly, suddenly made self conscious just by saying the word out loud. After all someone might have overheard. "She's just my friend." she continues hotly. "We're _just_ friends."

Puck smirks, disbelieving. "Babe, I might not be the sharpest pencil in the shed but I know a little something about attraction. And you two have it _big time_. I don't see why you don't just go for it and make a move."

"Because I don't like her like that." she snaps, her temper really starting to flare up. "And even if I did..." she trails off, unsure of where that train of thought was even going.

Santana just shakes it off.

"You don't believe me, fine. But let me tell you how this is gonna play out." Puck jerks his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing behind him. "I'm gonna go and you're gonna sit here and watch that dude hit on your girl. He's gonna flirt and charm her and it's gonna tick you off. Knowing you and your short Latina temperament, it isn't gonna take long for you to become royally pissed off. You might even just snap completely and go full Chuck Norris on his ass."

Santana watches him stand up. "And if and when that happens just know that that reaction means you fucking like her. As in _more_ than a friend." he stares down at her, brow raised. "Get it? Or do I needa find one of the cooks in back to translate into Spanish for you?"

"Fuck you, Puckerman." she glares, somewhat harshly.

"You already have, sweetheart." he grins, expertly sidestepping out of the way of her oncoming fist.

Santana sits back down in a huff and grabs her beer bottle. She brings it forward to her lips and takes a hearty swig.

When she dares to look back at Quinn, she's dismayed to find her and the lumberjack guy now talking one on one.

Santana's not sure what she hates more - the fact that Puck's little scenario was so far playing out just as he'd said or the fact that Quinn seemed perfectly okay with this guy's presence.

Santana takes another drink.

The longer she watches them talk, the less interested she becomes with her food. She wants to move closer, just to hear what pathetic attempts at flirting that tool was making, but she knows that if she does get up, her inner Snix will likely sneak out and she can't have that.

Because then Puck will be right and that will mean that she actually does have feelings...but she doesn't, right?

No, of course not.

Quinn's just a friend. Someone she only feels only platonic things for.

She doesn't like wanna date her or anything.

Or like do stuff with her.

Yeah, cause _doing stuff_ with her has never crossed her mind before. Which means it doesn't interest her...

Yeah.

Psh. Puckerman's nuts.

She is so not in denial.

Yeah, cause Santana Lopez don't _do_ denial.

Casting another glance their way, she gulps down the rest of her beer in one go.

Yep. No traces of denial here. None. Nada.

"Santana?"

Santana snaps her head to see Finn standing in front of her, looking concerned. "...you alright?" he questions carefully.

"I'm fine." she huffs, annoyed he managed to catch her off-guard. "What do you want, Frankenteen?"

Finn just shakes his head. "It's just...you look a little tense." he murmurs, stealing a mozzarella stick off the table.

Santana can barely focus on a word he's saying. She's too preoccupied with what was taking place across the room.

Her jaw clenches when she sees the lumberjack stepping forward into Quinn's personal space.

Quinn subtly turns her cheek then, which he takes as an opportunity to whisper something in her ear.

With a shake of her head, Quinn shies away and takes a step back to distance herself. That's when the lumberjack suddenly reaches out to _not so gently_ pull her back to him.

Even from across the room, Santana swears she heard the small yelp of pain.

She is out of her seat _so_ _fucking fast_.

"¡ALÉJATE DE ELLA, CERDO ASQUEROSO!" she yells, crossing the room in only a handful of strides. As soon as she's close enough, she gets in between them and forcefully pushes at the guy's chest, sending him backpedaling a step. "¿CREES QUE PUEDES VENIR AQUÍ Y MALTRATAR A MI CHICA?" He might be twice her size but he'll need more than that to have an advantage over her when the almighty Snix is concerned. "CÓMO TE ATREVES A PROBAR ESO!"

Santana feels herself being prevented from getting up in his face even further, someone attempting to pull her back. She assumes it's Quinn.

"Take it easy, JLO." the guy scoffs, brushing himself off. "Go on and do yourself a favor and back off. This doesn't concern you."

When he has the gall to try and push her out of the way, that's when she really loses it.

While she continues to rant in Spanish, she vaguely sees a few figures rush over to her, trying to catch the fist when she's about to land a punch to this guy's face.

"Santana, don't!"

"Lopez knock it off!"

The figure she realizes to be Puck wraps his arms around her and pulls her backward. This only makes her temper skyrocket. The alcohol in her system, serving as lighter fluid to her already volatile temper, makes her fight against hold like a fucking animal, ready to kill this motherfucker who was now spitting out both sexist and racist slurs. Even with Puck somehow managing to keep her at bay, she continues to let the fucker have it. "USTED CREE QUE HA EXPERIMENTADO EL DOLOR? USTED NO SABE NADA!"

"Lopez, you fucking get us banned from this place and I'll kick your ass myself." Puck warns, struggling to retain his grasp, especially when she's kicking wildly like a fucking bronco. "Brittany a little help here!"

"I'm trying!" she grunts, and Santana realizes the blonde was the other figure holding her back.

"¡Fuera de mi vista ahora mismo, o te lo prometo, ocurrirán cosas malas! COSAS MALAS!"

Finally the guy has the good sense to walk away but that does nothing to calm her down.

"Santana, please." a voice calls her name softly. It takes but a second for _that_ voice to register, but when it does, she momentarily snaps out of her blind rage.

Santana turns her head and for the first time sees Quinn standing there, her hazel eyes pleading. After a few moments, Santana takes a breath and allows her muscles to relax. Sensing this, Puck begins to loosen his hold on her, but doesn't let go completely until he's sure. "You good, Lopez?"

"I'm good." she confirms after a moment, the reality of how badly she'd reacted - er, overreacted - slowly beginning to sink in.

Puck lets go of her then and takes a step back. "Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid." she hears him say to Brittany, before taking off to talk down the owner, who was probably looking to throw them - er, _her_ \- out for causing such a scene.

Exhaling deeply, Santana pushes her hair back out of her face. She avoids looking at anything in particular, knowing well enough she probably had the whole bar still watching her.

Dropping her hand, she turns around and fixates her gaze on Quinn. "You okay?"

Quinn nods wordlessly, forcing a small smile. Santana does her best not to dwell on the girl's trembling form and the second flare up of emotion it evokes.

"C'mon, snowflake." she murmurs, reaching out and taking a hold of Quinn's hand. Santana leads her to the exit.

If the blonde dare ask what the hell that was just now, she'll just blame it on the alcohol.

—

Outside, though the cool air helps to sober her up a bit, Santana still feels heavily inclined to return to the bar and at the very least, bash a few skulls in.

Needless to say yelling hadn't been enough.

Not nearly.

Her temperament's always been one for the books but tonight it goes beyond her being mad. If anything it feels like she's got an bloodthirsty animal trying to claw its way outta her chest - a sensation she's now learning that makes her want to get _really_ fucking violent.

It doesn't help any that she can still totally smell _that douche's_ cologne lingering in the air, coming off Quinn's clothes.

Fortunately for the town's mailboxes and trash bins, said blonde is the only reason she doesn't go on a fucking rampage and hulk out.

Leaving Quinn's side just isn't an option, nor is letting go of her hand. So instead of concentrating on the rage, she tries to focus on the necessary task of getting her home.

It takes some effort but eventually Santana feels the desire to incapacitate lessen. By the time they reach Quinn's apartment, the only thing that really registers is the fact that her thumb has been caressing the back of the blonde's hand this entire time.

Well...that and the fact that she'd totally forgotten to order some buffalo wings to-go.

_God damn. Could this night suck any more?_

Once inside, Quinn slips away from her to change into more comfortable clothes. Santana does her best to ignore the loss of contact, and the odd sense of discontentment that comes with it.

She herself changes in the other room - the guest room as it were, even though she's never in her life slept in there - then pads across the wood floor back to the living room.

Brittany had opted to return home soon after they had left the bar, for what reason Santana couldn't remember, so it's just her and Quinn for the rest of the night.

As soon as she plops herself down on the sofa, Marshmallow comes up to her, deciding to try his luck with joining her.

Santana just crosses her arms and fixes him with a hard look he knows by now not to fucking test.

Shortly thereafter, Quinn emerges from her bedroom and heads over to the kitchen. She doesn't say anything - not that Santana expected her to, the entire walk over here she was as quiet as a mouse. Something which Santana feels partly responsible for. If they'd just stayed here and studied like Quinn wanted this whole night would've never happened.

Watching the blonde's obvious attempt at distracting herself (cleaning up her already immaculate kitchen), Santana pushes herself upright with a sigh. Although it's the last thing she wants to do right now, she picks up her math book off the floor and walks into the kitchen area with it.

"Hey."

She waits until Quinn turns around before awkwardly lifting the textbook in one hand. "So does your offer still stand?" she asks, somewhat unsurely.

She'd totally understand if it didn't, she just figured that if the snowflake was in need of a distraction, she might as well use it to her advantage.

She wasn't kidding about _really_ needing to pass that test.

"That depends." Quinn finally meets her gaze and Santana can't help but smile at her slightly quirked brow. "Will you pay attention this time?"

"Of course."

Quinn just arches her brow even further, reasonably skeptical considering she's heard _that_ many a time before already.

"I promise." Santana maintains, eyes widening a little, taking offense. "See?"

To prove herself, she takes a seat at the counter and opens her textbook, taking out her notes and clicking her pen ready.

Once she's good to go, she clasps her hands in front of her and straightens her posture like the good little student she is.

"I'm all ears, teach." she beams.

Quinn rolls her eyes but smiles nevertheless, helpless against it. "Okay." she sighs, hesitantly pulling out the chair next to her and sitting down.

Wordlessly she takes back her book and after taking a moment to skim the correct page, continues where they left off.

After a hour or so, Santana finds herself leaning forward, chin resting in her hand, legitly trying to remain attentive but failing miserably.

It's not her fault math is the most _boring_ subject ever invented. All those numbers and letters and shit.

And twenty freaking steps to solve _one_ problem?

God damn it's like teachers want to drive their students toward suicide.

Wait. Does that mean it constitutes as cruel and unusual punishment? Cause she might not pay much attention in U.S Government, but she sure as hell knows that shit's illegal.

She should really look into it.

She could end up being like, the next Erin Brockovich.

(It's not like she doesn't have the rack for it).

"Santana?"

Santana snaps out of her daze to find Quinn staring at her expectantly. "Are you done?"

Sighing, she grudgingly hands over her notes with the assigned practice problem on it. Her hands pressed against her cheeks, she watches with vague disinterest as the blonde looks over her work.

"Okay," Quinn hedges, lifting her gaze once she's done. "You're _getting_ there."

Santana just rolls her eyes.

Scooting forward, Quinn returns her paper to her and begins calmly explaining where it was that she went wrong.

Unable to help herself, Santana pretends to nod off in response, dipping her head into her chest and emitting loud snoring noises.

"Santana!"

"I'm up!" she startles to attention, acting dazed and confused as she looks around quickly. "Wha happened?"

Quinn shakes her head and sighs, but she's smiling so Santana takes it as a sign she's in the clear (and not about to get smacked). "You're a dork."

"I'll have you know that I am not in any way a whale's penis."

Quinn rolls her eyes before informing her that, "While dork is in fact a slang term for a penis, it is not specifically linked that of a whale, contrary to what the internet tells you."

Santana pulls a frown and falls back against her chair. "Well that's disappointing." she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

Quinn just nods and attempts to pick up where she left off. "Anyways—"

"But seriously, did you know those suckers' dongs are like on average fifteen feet long? _Fifteen feet!_"

"Santana," Quinn looks up and raises a concerned brow. "Why do know so much about whale genitalia?" she asks, in spite of her uncertainty of whether or not she actually wanted an answer.

Santana ignores the interruption and carries on. "Do you know how long that is?" She extends her arms out as far as she can. "That's like this times a thousand!" she exclaims, to which Quinn just blinks.

"You're avoiding the question, which worries me."

"And do you know how many _gallons_ of sperm they produce? That answer alone is reason enough I don't swim in the ocean."

Wordlessly, Quinn closes her textbook and stands up to leave. A second later she's turning and walking away.

"Just when I think she can't possibly get any stranger, I find out she has a whale fetish." Quinn murmurs to herself, still shaking her head.

Having clearly heard that remark, Santana promptly pushes herself out of her chair. "Bitch, I do not have a fish fetish. If I did I'd be all up on that Trouty Mouth Evans."

"Whales are _mammals_, Santana. Not fish."

Nonetheless, she follows Quinn into her bedroom, only to stop short halfway upon entry, caught off-guard by the force in which the nasty as fuck dog odor assaults her senses.

"Holy shit." Santana turns her head and balks, the Marshmallow stench overpowering to say the least.

Quinn turns around, unaware at first, then concerned by her reaction. "What?"

"Seriously?" Santana shoots her an incredulous look before walking further into her bedroom. "Jesus Christ." She shakes her head, her mind suddenly reeling, nostrils flaring. The smell is _everywhere_. "How can you not smell it?"

Without warning, she goes over to the blonde's bed, where the smell is at its worst, and begins stripping it off all its' coverings.

"Santana!" Quinn comes up beside her, trying to get her to stop but she doesn't let up. "What on earth do you think you're doing?"

"How many times have I told you, don't let that fleabag sleep with you!" she all but growls as she yanks the sheets out and haphazardly tosses them aside. She does the same with all the blankets, comforter, hell even the pillows.

When she's done, she whips around and disappears into the hallway. "Where are your clean sheets?"

She finds them in the closet but is appalled to find that they stink just as bad as the other ones.

"God damn woman!" Nose scrunched up in utter disgust, she bunches them into a ball and throws them over her shoulder. "Don't you know how to wash your shit?"

"Santana!" Quinn huffs from behind her. "These are clean sheets. I _just_ washed them."

"Well evidently you didn't wash them well enough because I can still smell the dog stank."

_And it's driving me fucking nuts._

"Santana, you're being ridiculous." Quinn picks up her sheets off the ground and takes an experimental sniff. "They all smell like mountain spring!"

"Yeah, mountain spring puppy ass!" Santana retorts over her shoulder, still in search of clean sheets. Finally she finds some, an unopened package of linens that don't seem to make her temper flare up. She takes them back Quinn's room. "I sleep here. Brittany sleeps here." She angrily kicks away the blankets that tangle around her feet on her journey toward the bed. "This is some unsanitary shit, Fabray! Asbestos!"

Quinn's right on her heels. She rolls her eyes, exasperated. "Santana, Asbestos have nothing to do with pet dander!"

With arms crossed, she watches as Santana climbs on her bed to put the new sheets on. "And I'll have you know that my room, and my sheets, and my bed, and whatever else you think reeks, smell just _fine_. But if you still have a problem with it, feel free to spend the night in the living room or in the kitchen, or hell even in my bathtub. Whichever you prefer."

Santana merely rolls her eyes before flopping on her back to lie down. "I can still smell it." she huffs, much to her own dismay. "You know if you keep bringing that damn pup in here to cuddle when I'm not around, I'm gonna have to bring over my own blankets and sheets from now on. And carry a can of _Febreeze_ on me at all times."

"Your fault for giving me Marshmallow." Quinn shrugs simply.

"I didn't give you Marshmallow. _Brittany_ did." she reminds, eyes narrowing slightly. "I'd never give you a damn dog - not unless I seriously hated you or something."

"Why? Because you don't like competition?" Quinn smirks, her brow arched teasingly.

Santana doesn't even bother dignifying that with a response.

"You know it's ironic how much you hate dogs considering how much you act just like one." Quinn brings up, still with a smile playing across her lips.

Santana props herself up by her elbows and glares hard. "I do not." she scoffs indignantly. "You don't see me humping people's legs or dragging my ass across the carpet, do you?"

"No," Quinn laughs, walking over to the side of the bed. "But you do have an extraordinarily sensitive nose. And you are incredibly territorial. Not to mention you eat like a fiend..."

"I am a growing girl!"

"Mmm-hmm." Quinn nods, clearly humoring her. "More like a puppy dog."

"I ain't no puppy." she grumbles stubbornly, falling back against the mattress. She closes her eyes then and sighs, patiently waiting to feel Quinn join her, only for the moment to never come.

Brow furrowed, Santana opens her eyes and looks over at the blonde curiously. "What are you doing?"

Quinn glances back at her and lightly scoffs. "What does it look like?" Bending down, she picks up another one of her pillows off the floor and tosses it at the Latina. "Picking up after you! Though I have no idea why, this mess is your fault. You should be the one to do it."

"God just leave 'em there." she groans, grudgingly shoving the pillow behind her head. "I get hot with all those blankets anyways."

Quinn straightens back up and moves her hands to rest on her hips. "And what about me?"

Santana just snorts. "What about you, Little Miss _I never get cold?_ And besides you have me, your own personal heater slash pillow."

"Whatever." Quinn sighs, turning back around to continue gathering her covers.

After a few seconds of watching the oh-so riveting sight of Quinn Fabray neatly folding away her blankets, Santana releases an irritable huff.

"Are you done yet?"

"Does it _look_ like I'm done, Santana?" Quinn asks tiredly, once more directing her raised brow at the Latina.

"Well hurry up." she groans, trying - and failing - to poke the blonde with her foot from where she was laying. "I wants to get my zzz's on."

"You are so bossy."

"Psh. I'm _the_ boss." Santana responds before flicking her foot out again. "Now muévete, Fabray! I needs my beauty rest."

Her smirk morphs into a triumphant smile when she sees Quinn's retreating form moving to flip off the lights. Santana rolls onto her stomach accordingly and stretches out all her limbs, sighing contently into the mattress.

"Well?"

Though Santana can feel Quinn hovering near the side of the bed, she doesn't bother lifting her head. "Well what?" she sighs, her voice partly muffled.

"Are you going to move over?"

Santana turns her head, her lips curving upward. "Now why the hell would I do that when I am _perfectly_ comfortable right here?"

"Santana!"

Next thing she knows, the snowflake's landing a sharp smack to her ass.

"Spank me all you want, you kinky little freak." she smirks, eyes still pleasantly closed. "I ain't movin'."

"Santana, where am I supposed to sleep?" Quinn huffs, growing aggravated. "This little corner here?"

"Sure, why not." she mumbles dismissively, moving to cover her head with her pillow so she doesn't have to continue listening to the grumbly blonde.

"Santana!"

"This is ma spot, Fabray. So I'm not moving. G'night."

"_Fine_."

There's a bit of rustling before Santana finally feels the mattress dip with what she assumes is Quinn's weight. She dares to crack one eye open just to sure - the last thing she wants is that fleabag Marshmallow joining them - only to find Quinn lying down at the other end of the bed, her head by her feet.

Santana grudgingly rolls onto her back again and props herself up by her elbows. She squints her eyes to see past the darkness. "The hell are you doing, snowflake?"

That's when she gets a face full of Fabray feet.

Or _bitch slapped_ by them, is the more accurate description.

"What the—"

"Move. Over. Santana." Quinn says, emphasizing each syllable with a foot smack. "Now."

Jesus. She could lose an eye this way!

After a few seconds of combating her feet, Santana finally manages to push herself upright. She quickly grabs a hold of the other girl's legs. "Oh you're so gonna get it now, Fabray."

Quinn squeaks in surprise when Santana drags her closer and then leans over her so that she can begin her merciless torture.

Quinn, as it turns out, is _super_ ticklish. In only a few short seconds, Santana has her squirming around like a helpless little wiggle worm.

"Santana, stop it!" Quinn shrieks, trying unsuccessfully to push her hands away. "Please! Ah, Santana!"

"Maybe now you'll think twice before shoving your nasty corn toes in other people's faces." she cackles, thoroughly enjoying tickling the snowflake.

"I do not have corns!" Quinn cries out indignantly, releasing an uncharacteristic 'eep!' when Santana moves her hands from her sides to under her arms.

Santana indulges in a few more minutes of ticklish torture before taking pity on the now watery-eyed blonde and pulling away.

While Quinn tries to catch her breath, Santana sits back on her haunches and pushes her hair out of her face. "I'd say I was sorry but you and I both know you deserved it."

"You started it." Quinn rasps, her voice made hoarse from all the laughing and pleading. "You always start it."

"Gotta keep things entertaining, snowflake." Santana shrugs, smiling down at those pretty hazel eyes beneath her. "Especially in this podunk town."

Unthinkingly, she leans forward, and while keeping herself propped up with one hand, uses the other one to gently brush away Quinn's tears with her thumb.

"So incorrigible." the blonde mumbles, making Santana laugh quietly.

"Sure am."

Quinn playfully rolls her eyes and Santana is helpless to smile along.

In that same moment a strong sense of familiarity washes over her, lingering much like her gaze was. Somewhere, a distant part of her brain wonders why she's suddenly so transfixed by the blonde's features.

At the same time, Santana's well aware of the fact that her body is still very much on top of Quinn's. She doesn't make a move to pull back though. She knows she should, of course - their position being...less than appropriate for two _friends._ But something keeps her right where she is, holding her there.

Santana doesn't know what to make of it - these thoughts or these feelings suddenly coursing through her veins. It was hard to contemplate anything with those bright hazel eyes staring up at her, shining with a startling intensity that was both familiar and new to her at the same time.

None of it made any sense.

Maybe this was all just a sign that all those beers from earlier were finally starting to go into effect.

Whatever the reason, second after second passes and Santana remains propped up above her, unmoving and without the slightest clue as what she was doing.

"Santana?"

A shudder travels down Santana's spine then, catching her off-guard. C_hrist_, has her name always sounded so fucking good coming from her?

Out of her peripheral, she sees Quinn lift her hand. For a split second she thinks the blonde might use it to push her away, but she doesn't. Her fingers rise up to tentatively brush against her face and Santana, emboldened by the jolting sensation, closes the distance and all but pushes her cheek into her awaiting hand.

Ironically, though Quinn was as cool to the touch as ever, Santana felt as though she was gonna melt from the inside out. If she didn't know any better, it was like it'd been something she'd long been craving and just hadn't realized it until now.

"Red."

Santana's gaze snaps up from those enticing lips that had just parted to speak, and tilts her head questioningly, not comprehending.

"I look at you and I think 'Red' for some reason." Quinn explains quietly, staring at her intently, almost like like she was trying to find an answer in her eyes.

"It's my favorite color." she automatically reasons, unable to help her frown when Quinn's hand slips away.

"I know. But...I just...I don't know. _Red_." Quinn says again, testing it on her tongue and feeling the familiarity.

Santana nods, understanding in a sense. The more Quinn says the word, the more significant it feels. Like it held a deeper meaning beyond what they thought.

And the way she says it - it's almost more gratifying than when she says her actual name.

Weird.

Santana swallows hard, her mouth suddenly dry, and when she feels herself lick her lips, she swears she hears Quinn's breath catch.

Her gaze finds Quinn's lips as a result and before she knows it, she's consumed by an overwhelming urge to taste that pretty pink mouth.

Beyond a doubt, Santana has lost her fucking mind. She's sure of it.

A sudden bark cuts through the moment, startling them both, and Santana rears back like she'd just been caught red-handed.

It's just Marshmallow, and since Quinn's door was open, he scampers right in, looking to cuddle or play or eat even though it was the middle of the fucking night.

Dogs. So fucking annoying.

"I better..."

Santana just nods, not needing more than that. Quinn shimmies off the bed without another word and moves to wrangle the mischievous pup trying to get away with one of her pillows.

The second the blonde disappears into the hallway, Santana ends up doing what she does best and bolts. She throws on her shoes and slips out the window, onto the fire escape.

Don't ask why—she just...well let's just say awkward situations aren't her thing and she's pretty sure if she were to stick around and wait for Quinn to come back, they'd have a major one.

After all, what the hell had that been?

She was like...and Quinn was like...and then _they_ were like...

It was crossing a line way past the friend zone, that's what _that_ had been.

Needing to clear her head and calm down her adrenalized body, Santana begins walking around town.

Alright, Lopez.

_It's obvious you've got a little alcohol still hanging around in your system and it's screwing with your head. You don't really want to gets your mack on with Quinn. Your blood alcohol levels are just a little on the uppity up side. And maybe, just maybe, you were subconsciously wanting to get some sweet lady kisses because you haven't gotten any in a while._

_Yeah._

_It's not like any of this has to do with the fact that you like Quinn._

_Cause you don't._

_Well...you do._

_But as a friend._

_Kissing her would be...gross._

Of course, that's not to say that Quinn's like repulsive or something. Girlie's fucking gorgeous. And has like _the_ cutest smile in existence.

Not to mention those fucking eyes...

Okay, maybe gross isn't the right word.

Kissing Quinn would be...well it wouldn't all that terrible. Probably not the best. But that's cause snowflake's never kissed anyone before.

She could easily teach her how to properly mack. And it wouldn't be weird or anything, cause she'd be like, helping out her friend, right?

Right.

Totally.

Wait. What?

As she draws closer to makes the rounds Brittany's neighborhood, Santana debates dropping by and asking to crash for the night - it's not like Blondie would turn her down.

But while tempting, she can't really bring herself to commit to the idea. Mainly because she doesn't...she'd rather...

She _wants_ to go back, is what she's trying to say. As weird as that may sound.

Of course she'd rather not risk having to confront Quinn about that little moment they'd shared, now or ever, but the idea of not returning to her, just abandoning her like that made it hard to breathe.

In other words it just wasn't an option.

A few minutes later, Santana's coming back in the way she left - through Quinn's window. The room's dark and the snowflake looks to be asleep so she slides the screen down as quietly, and gently as she can.

She's barely got the damn thing closed when she hears a not-so-asleep voice say, "You came back."

Santana tenses up for a second, startled, then turns around just as Quinn's pushing herself up to rest on her arm.

"Of course I did." she replies with a slight scoff, moving closer to her. "I'm not about to walk all the way home at this hour. Fuck that."

As she crawls onto the bed and proceeds to lie down next to her, she silently prays that this was okay. And that Quinn was not about to give her the heave-ho.

"And besides," Santana shifts onto her side to face the blonde and releases a small sigh when she sees no signs of hostility displayed across her features.

"You said you'd make waffles tomorrow."

"And bacon." Quinn sighs, moving onto her side, her eyelashes fluttering sleepily.

Santana can't help but laugh softly. "Of course. Can't forget your bacon." She shifts her body so she can tuck her arm under her head. "You know, if this town suffers a bacon shortage, you'll be the one to blame, you know that right?"

"Same goes for you and your breadsticks." Quinn murmurs, her eyes pleasantly closed and hands tucked under her chin. "Or bread of any kind for that matter."

Santana watches her for a moment, admiring the soft, ethereal look on her face before declaring. "You should totally make waffles right now."

Though her brow scrunches up adorably, Quinn makes no move to open her eyes. "You're joking, right?"

"What? It's technically morning anyways and all this food talk has made me hungry."

"You're _always_ hungry, Santana." Quinn sighs, rolling onto her other side to face away from her.

"_Come on_, Q." she whines softly. "Please?"

Quinn keeps her back to her. "No, I want to sleep."

Santana rolls her eyes. "You can sleep after." she huffs, reaching out and poking the blonde's side.

A mischievous smile breaks out across her face when the girl squirms.

"There are eggo waffles in the freezer, Santana. Pop them in the toaster and you're good to go."

"I want the good stuff. Not the frozen crap." she scoffs, appalled that Quinn would even suggest such a thing.

"Santana, we need sleep." Quinn groans pleadingly. "You can wait six hours."

"No, I can't." she grunts out stubbornly. Once she's got food on the brain, it won't go away until it's digesting in her stomach. "I'll starve by then."

When Santana doesn't receive any kind of response, she scoots back a little and extends her leg. "Órale, Fabray." She begins pushing her foot against Quinn's ass, in attempt to scoot the blonde off the bed. "Tengo hambre!"

"Too bad, Santana." Quinn whips around and promptly swats her foot away, to which Santana begs.

"Necessito comida _ahora_!"

"There's a bag bag of kibble under in the bottom cabinet. Have at it."

Santana glares at the blonde already turning away from her again. "Bitch." she mutters under her breath, lying down on her back with her arms folded unhappily.

A period of brooding ensues, until she's able to come up with the perfect solution to get what she wants.

Smirking to herself, Santana rolls back onto her side and resituates herself right behind Quinn.

"Hey, Fabray." she tries again. She leans in close to whisper in the blonde's ear. "If you make me waffles, I'll fry you up some bacon."

It doesn't matter the time or day - Quinn Fabray _never_ passes up bacon. It was like her Achilles's heel.

There's a moment's pause before the snowflake turns her head toward her. "...Will you make it extra crispy?"

"You know it." she grins.

"Ugh." Quinn looks away and shuts her eyes with a soft groan. Santana keeps her triumphant smile in check until Quinn pushes herself upright. "The things I let you talk me into."

"Whatever, snowflake." Santana hops off the bed and follows her toward the door. "You're getting bacon outta the deal so be a little grateful."

"You are a piece of work."

"More like a work of art." she smirks.

"Yes you're a regular Mona Lisa." says Quinn dryly.

"Psh. I am _way_ hotter than that dumb bitch."

—

"You guys are too cute for your own good, you know that?" Brittany laughs, chewing around a mouthful of skittles candy.

Santana just shakes her head in response, hoping her smile isn't nearly as uncomfortable as it feels.

Her and Britts are sitting in their usual seats up on the top riser, with a couple spaces between them to prop up their legs. Like the rest of the club, they were waiting on Mr. Schue to arrive so they could finally get rehearsal started.

That guy couldn't be on time to save his life.

In the meantime, Santana's been telling Brittany about her and Quinn's night after she'd left for home. Santana, of course, doesn't dare mention that - er, ahem - _moment_ they shared. She knows if she did, Brittany would just take it as confirmation to book the church for their future wedding.

"Like an old married couple." Brittany beams, before flicking a skittle her way.

Santana catches it in her mouth easily. "We are not an old married couple, Britt." she immediately denies, scoffing at the very idea. She opens her mouth for another skittle.

"Well you sure act like one." Brittany says, chuckling slightly when she makes another impressive catch. "I mean these days you two are practically living together." She snickers at Santana's wide-eyed expression.

"We are not."

Brittany raises her brow. "You're always over there. And she even cleaned out a drawer for you to put your stuff in."

"She did that for you too." Santana's quick to remind, her face not at all burning right now.

And she does not spend _all_ her time over there, thank you very much.

"Santana, you're married to her. Just deal with it."

"Pierce, I say this with love, but you're _insane_." Turning, she removes her legs from the chairs and sits normally.

Brittany dips her head to look up at her . "Santana, she takes care of you. You take care of her. Yet no sex is being had. That pretty much means you're married."

"It means we're friends." she grits out in response, after her head swivels around worriedly. Lucky for her everyone else seemed to be too involved in their own conversations to bother with paying them any attention.

Brittany just rolls her eyes. "Oh, Santana." she sighs.

Santana would have responded had someone not walked into the choir room in that moment, effectively distracting her.

Is it weird she can identify Quinn solely by her footsteps?

Quinn walks over to them with smiling eyes. Santana can't help but smile at her in return - that is, until Brittany suddenly throws a skittle at her face.

Ouch.

Without hesitation Santana throws her one of her patented _wtf?_ looks. "Sorry, I thought you were ready." Brittany says, shrugging not-so innocently.

"You nearly blinded me." she glares, meanwhile picking the piece of candy out of her shirt and eating it.

Santana grimaces when she tastes that it's a lemon one.

Nasty.

She spits it out without hesitation. It lands somewhere in Mercedes' hair. Fortunately young wheezy is none the wiser.

_Un_fortunately for Santana, Quinn had seen the whole thing.

"_Santana_."

Avoiding eye contact, Santana has to resist the urge to roll her eyes. "What?" she groans, knowing that tone all too well.

When she finally does lift her head, she's met with that infamous raised brow. Not that she expected any different.

"Ugh." Santana rolls her eyes that time.

Shifting under Quinn's disapproving gaze, she grudgingly turns and calls out to Mercedes. "Hey, Wheezy. You've got a chewed up skittle hanging out in that ten dollar weave of yours."

Mercedes turns away from her conversation with Girl Chang and Lady Hummel. "Santana, I swear." she warns with a shake of her head. "Knock it off."

"Who said it was me?" she scoffs, leaning forward in her seat. "I was just being a good friend and trying to look out for you. _Excuse me_, next time I won't try and save you the embarrassment."

"You're the one who's been eating skittles this whole time!" Mercedes exclaims, gesturing back to Brittany who was polishing off the last of the bag.

Santana leans back and crosses her arms. "You have no proof."

"Your tongue is _purple_."

"I'll have you know this is from a _grape_ slushie I had at lunch." she says, pointing to her mouth.

Mercedes just rolls her eyes and shifts back around in her chair, apparently having had enough.

Fine with her.

Santana's gaze falls back to Quinn. When she finds the blonde staring at her, she sighs heavily, her shoulders slumping. "What now?"

Quinn just shakes her head. "Nothing."

Her smile says otherwise.

"Attention everyone!" Rachel comes striding into the choir room then, with Finn right on her heels. She's got that disturbingly cheerful smile plastered across her face which can only spell bad things for the rest of them. "While we are waiting for Mr. Schuester to arrive, I have an announcement."

"You're finally getting a sex change." Santana throws out dryly. Heads turn and she feels herself frown at the looks she receives. "What? Have you seen her grisly little paws? Total man hands. She might as well make the rest of herself match."

Rachel clears her throat, opting to ignore that little jab, and begins again. "As I was saying, I have an announcement. One that concerns all of you."

Turning to Finn, she gives him a small, consenting nod.

Santana watches with narrowed eyes as the Frankenteen begins passing out envelopes to everyone.

Since when did he become Berry's little bitchlet?

"You see, as president of the glee club—"

_President?_ Where the fuck did that come from?

She doesn't recall voting for any shit.

"—I consider it my duty to be the eyes and ears of our little group and it's come to my attention that some of our members," Rachel glances their way not at all pointedly. "Have been spending quality time outside of school and while that's just fine, I feel that if we allow ourselves to branch off too soon, it will only prove detrimental to the group as a whole. The way I see it, the only way we're going to thrive as a team is if we actually take the time out - all of us - to really get to know each other better. You know, _bond_."

Artie looks up from his gold star invitation, his eyebrows knitted. "So you're throw a glee club party?" he has to clarify.

Santana rolls her eyes, grimacing as she looks over her own invitation. "Parties are for when cool people hang out together. Not that you'd know, Sponge Geek McCripple Pants. This...thing is not a party. It's more like the ten minutes after a funeral, you know that exact moment when people are getting in their cars and thinking they can finally go home, only to realize they still have to attend the fucking wake. Except this will probably be a hella lot more depressing."

"Regardless of what you think, _Santana_, festivities will begin at seven in the evening this Saturday. As my invitations state, this little soirée will be for glee club members only. My dads will be staying at the local Bed and Breakfast for the weekend so we will have uninterrupted access to my basement - also known as our Oscar Screening room. Refreshments will be provided as will the entertainment - I have the perfect set-list of songs I plan to perform - but of course you are all welcome to sing as well. And have no fear, my dad put in a stage for my impromptu performances complete with a working microphone and sound system. I also just upgraded my karaoke machine." she says, ending on what she believes is a bright note.

"That sounds awful." Santana deadpans.

Rachel's brow furrows. "Which part?"

"All of it."

"Well I'm in, Rachel." Brittany speaks up unexpectedly.

As a result just about everyone in the room swivels around to look at her. "Britt, _come on_." Santana states incredulously. "You can't be serious."

"It sounds like fun." Brittany shrugs unapologetically. "And besides it's not like we have anything better to do."

"Anything would be better than _this_." Santana scoffs, waving the gold star invitation for emphasis.

"Still in the room, you know, Santana." Rachel sighs, exasperated.

Santana ignores her. "Help me out, Q." she says instead, looking at the blonde.

"Would it really be that terrible?" Quinn murmurs, not particularly liking being put on the spot like this, with everyone's eyes watching her.

"Uh, _yeah_. It would."

Mr. Schuester enters the room at a brisk pace. "Sorry I'm late, guys." he apologizes profusely, unknowingly interrupting their little conversation.

As Mr. Schue unnecessarily rambles a long thought out excuse (they all know he'd just got caught up talking to the guidance counselor), Puck gets up out of his seat and settles down next to Santana.

"You aren't seriously going to Berry's party, are you?" he whispers, casually leaning to the side.

"Most likely." she mutters, her arms crossed. "Which means you better be coming too, Puckerman." she says, finally turning her head to stare him down.

"And with booze. Lots of. A Rachel Berry party is _not_ something I can do sober."

"I'll see what I can do. But..." Her eyes narrow at the growing smirk directed at her."You sure drinking is a good idea, Lopez?" Puck says knowingly, his gaze flickering to Quinn and back.

Rolling her eyes, Santana pushes at his head.

Sure the last time she had alcohol in her system around Quinn she'd Snixed out and almost kissed her, but what were the chances of that happening twice?

Not fucking likely.

—

It's late Friday afternoon and Santana's eager as fuck to go home. The restaurante's not too busy but then again, when is it ever? This was Storybrooke.

Feeling her phone vibrate in her apron once again, Santana sighs and ignores it, already knowing who it was. Brittany's been texting her throughout her shift about how excited she was for Rachel's party and how she couldn't wait for it, and Santana was growing tiresome.

She was not looking forward to tomorrow night by any means and if she had it her way, they would not even be going.

Damn her blondes and their stupid majority vote.

She just hopes Puckerman keeps to his word and brings alcohol, cause at least then things will get somewhat interesting.

Drunken glee clubbers - yeah, that's liable to either be an incredibly pathetic sight or a super entertaining one.

Speaking of which, Santana still needed to confirm her alibi with her grams. If drinking was gonna be involved at this party, she sure as hell wasn't gonna come home after it. Her abuela would smell the alcohol the second she walked in through the door.

Then she'd kick her ass six ways from Sunday.

Yeah, _no thanks_.

Santana waits until she's finished wiping down the tables before approaching her abuela behind the counter.

"Hey I'm gonna spend the night at Quinn's tonight and tomorrow." she brings up, resting her arms against the countertop. "That cool?"

"What, your bed at home is no longer good enough for you?" her abuela questions before lifting her gaze, in the midst of refilling the jar of horchata.

Santana can't help but roll her eyes. _Here we go_. "Of course not."

"You spend more time at that girl's house than you do your own home." Her abuela points out. "Same with Brittany. I don't understand it." She stops suddenly and turns to her with narrowed eyes. "You're not using those girls as an excuse to sneak around with that Puckerman boy again are you, Santana? Because so help me God if you are. I will get out my chancleta and—"

"Ugh. Grams, no." she groans, laughing lightly. She shakes her head assuredly. "That was ages ago. I'm _so_ over him."

_So over._

"And anyways, what's the big deal?" she frowns, reaching over and grabbing a clean towel to dry the wet pile of dishes on the counter. "Quinn and Brittany are my best friends. Is it so bad that I want to spend time with them?"

"If they are so important to you, then why do you never bring them over to the house? Hmm?" Her abuela stares at her expectantly. "Are you ashamed of your abuela? Afraid I'll embarrass you?"

"Of course not." Santana rolls her eyes again, cause that's just ridiculous. "You're great. And wait — I bring them to the restaurante like _all the time_."

"But you never let me talk to them." her abuela counters. "You always shoo me away."

"I do not." she scoffs. Even though that may or may not be true. "I just...I know you're busy." she finishes lamely, to which her abuela just shakes her head.

Santana sighs heavily. "Okay. I'll...I dunno. Invite them over for dinner next week, how's that?" While her abuela looks appeased enough, she figures it best to get in her conditions now.

"Just don't try and pull any funny business." she warns seriously. "Like no bringing out embarrassing baby pictures of me or something."

"Why would I do that?" Her grandmother frowns deeply. "I mean, no offense mija but you were not a cute baby. You had a mustache like an Argentinian revolutionary."

Santana's jaw slackens.

"In fact for the first few years of your life I called you _Che Guevara_."

Santana scoffs loudly. "And people wonder why _I'm_ such a bitch." she laughs, shaking her head incredulously. "Miserable vieja."

"Watch that mouth, Santana." Her abuela warns, holding up at stern finger. "Or I will take you over my knee and spank you."

Santana's grin broadens. "Wanky."

Even though it's her grams, how could she _not_ go there?

"What is this _wanky_ you always speak of?"

Her abuela frowns deeply, still not understanding it after all these years. She shakes her head, muttering to herself. "Always with the _wanky_."

"I'mma go take my break now." Santana chuckles, taking a step back once she's done with the dishes.

"Ten minutes, Santana!" Her abuela calls after her. "And not a minute more!"

"Yeah, yeah." Santana waves her off, rolling her eyes smilingly.

As usual she takes her break outside on the patio. It's winter so she doesn't have to worry about bothering the customers out here. Reaching into her apron pockets, Santana produces a fine cuban cigar.

Now she knows smoking's bad and yadda yadda but it gives that nice raspy singing voice for glee club. And it's not like she does it _all the time_ \- only when she feels like it.

Which just happens to be now.

Leaning back against the quaint picket fence surrounding the restaurante, Santana takes languid puffs here and there, enjoying the calm and crisp air. It's times like this where she doesn't really mind the town's chronic tranquility.

Blowing out a breath, Santana slips her hand into her pocket and pulls out her cell phone. _I wonder what Quinn's doing_, she thinks to herself as she's scrolling down her contacts, _Probably something lame like homework_.

Quinn is such a nerd.

If Santana doesn't call now and tell her to knock it off, she'll only descend further into that vortex of nerdiness.

She hits the call button.

Quinn will thank her later.

While she waits, Santana brings her cigar back up to her lips.

They still haven't talked about that moment they shared in her bedroom - not that Santana expected them to. She sure as hell wasn't gonna be the one to bring it up and Quinn didn't look like she was either. She seemed perfectly content with acting like it never happened.

Which was perfectly fine with her.

Because really, what was there to talk about? It's not like anything even happened.

Still...

If nothing happened, then why can't she stop thinking about it?

_Because you're a weirdo, that's why_.

It's the only explanation.

Yep.

_Only_.

Her call goes to Quinn's voicemail. Frowning, Santana removes her phone from her ear and stares at the screen.

Weird.

Santana shrugs it off and pushes her phone back in her pocket. _Whatever_.

It's as she's taking another drag that she lifts her head. She glances around for a moment, before catching a glimpse of something - er, _someone_ \- familiar. Her brow lifts of its own accord, surprised, when she sees that it's the very blonde she'd been trying to contact, strolling down the street across the way, out taking Marshmallow for a walk.

Santana immediately straightens.

Then, unthinkingly, she brings two fingers to her lips and whistles.

_Wolf _whistles, to be exact.

Her eyes widen a little when that fact registers.

Seriously? Did she really just fucking do that?

Just goes to show she's fucking morphing into Puckerman.

God help her.

Quinn stops and sharply turns her head at the sound, probably expecting some perverted creep to be the cause.

Santana tries play it cool - emphasis on the _tries_ \- only to fail miserably. She's pretty sure her smirk comes out looking more sheepish than cocky, and her awkward little hand wave really did not help any.

Nonetheless Quinn smiles when she realizes it was just her.

It's one of those dazzling little smiles that legitimately makes Santana's breath hitch - you know it's like, _breathtaking_.

While Quinn crosses the street, Santana quickly stamps out her cigar with her boot and waves away the cloud of smoke surrounding her.

Needless to say Quinn knew about her so-called "bad" habit and was not a fan of it.

Not that Santana cares what she thinks. _Psh_. She just doesn't want Quinn to come over here with Marshmallow and then have the blonde accuse her of trying to kill him with puppy lung cancer or some shit.

Lifting her gaze, Santana watches with mild amusement as Marshmallow eagerly scampers toward her, all but pulling Quinn along with him in the process.

The sight was fucking adorable.

...if you were, you know, _into_ that kind of thing.

"Hey, Santana." Quinn greets somewhat breathlessly, her cheeks tinged pink from the weather and probably just a little embarrassment.

"Q." she greets, meanwhile eyeing the super excited, super jumpy Marshmallow warily. (She'll never understand why he liked her so much, considering how awful she always was to him).

"Furball." she grudgingly acknowledges.

Quinn sniffs the air suddenly and as a result crinkles her nose. "Have you been smoking?"

"Course not." she denies, meanwhile casually stepping over her cigar and grinding the last of its remains into the ground.

"Santana," Quinn sighs, evidently harder to fool than she thought. "How many times have I told you? It doesn't matter if it's cigars or cigarettes. They. Can. Kill. You. Not to mention they give you horrible breath."

"Meanwhile you reek!" she scoffs defensively, looking her up and down. "What'd you do roll around in a bed of puppies? You smell like rawhide bones and kibble."

_And something else_, Santana sniffs.

Quinn rolls her eyes briefly. "Well I _was_ at the dog park with Marshmallow, Santana."

Santana cocks her head and folds her arms across her chest. "With who?"

"Excuse me?" Quinn frowns.

Her eyes narrow. "You smell different." she explains. "Like you've got someone else's perfume on you or something."

"Well I ran into Tina..."

"Who the _fuck_ is Tina?"

"Seriously?" Quinn raises her brow at her. "You know..._Tina?_"

Santana stares at her blankly.

"Tina _Cohen-Chang_?" Quinn further prompts. "From glee club?"

Santana literally has no idea who she's talking about.

Oh wait.

"You mean Stutters?" she asks, eyes narrowed questioningly. "What are you doing with her?"

"Ran into her at the park." Quinn explains simply, frowning at the way she crosses her arms. "She was walking her dog too and we got to talking so we decided to just walk together."

Santana pulls a face. "Why?"

"Why not?" Quinn lightly scoffs, confused.

"She's weird."

"So are you." Quinn's quick to point out. "But I still hang out with you."

"I am not weird." she glares. "I'm awesome. I am Lord of the bling."

"_Anyways_," Quinn continues with a light shake of her head. "I was thinking about Rachel —"

"Pervert."

Quinn glares at her briefly. "—And what she said in glee club yesterday, about how we should try and get to know each other better. And, I don't know," she shrugs. "I thought I'd be good for me if I tried and stepped out of my comfort zone. You know, make friends."

Santana frowns unhappily. "You have friends."

"I meant _more_ friends."

"You're a greedy little thing, aren't you?" she shakes her head, smirking.

"Shut up." Quinn scoffs, smiling bashfully.

Her own smile spreads further in response. "Whatever." She glances away momentarily. "Anyways," She turns back to Quinn. "So we still on for tonight or did you make plans with your new _bestie_ to play ping pong and eat noddles or whatever it is Asians do for fun?"

Quinn narrows her eyes at her playfully. "Racist."

"I'm ethnic." she returns, pulling back with a careless shrug. "I can get away with it."

"Yes, Santana." Quinn sighs, smiling in spite of herself. "You are still welcome to come over tonight."

"Good. I don't get off work for another hour so...yeah." Santana lifts her chin at her. "You eaten yet?"

Quinn shakes her head.

"Cool. I'll grab dinner." Santana glances over her shoulder, sensing her abuela's eyes on them from inside. She figures her break's over and should probably get back. "Text Brittany and see if she wants in." she says, returning her gaze to the blonde in front of her. "I was thinking of ordering from Mercedes' family's place. It's about time you fucking tried it."

"Sounds good." Quinn nods approvingly.

"Meanwhile do us all a favor and take a fucking shower." Santana scrunches up her nose, disgusted. "Your dog stank seriously makes me want to punch something."

"And your sanity - or lack thereof - is starting to worry me." Quinn responds lightly, before bending down and scooping up Marshmallow in her arms.

Next thing Santana knows, Blondie's shoving the furball all up in her grill. It happens so fast she doesn't even have time to back away from the tongue that assaults her face, licking her in one fell swoop from chin to hairline.

Santana yelps and rears back.

Once she's finished wiping at her face like a mad woman, she stares at Quinn, disbelieving. "What the fuck, Q? Are you looking to unleash the almighty Snix?"

"That's just his way of saying goodbye." Quinn shrugs innocently, though her smile is anything but.

Santana points at her, beyond unamused. "You are one fucking _messed up_ little snowflake."

"Well you shouldn't tell people they smell when they obviously don't." Quinn turns on her heel with Marshmallow still in her arms.

"I'll see you soon, Santana." she chuckles over her shoulder.

"No me gusta, Fabray!" Santana calls out after her retreating form. "_No me gusta!_"

—

Walking into the Jones' family restaurant, Santana can _still_ taste Marshmallow on her mouth and feel his slobber all over her face even though she'd showered as soon as she'd gotten home from her shift and washed her face like _thirty _fucking times.

It was all kinds of disturbing. In fact she was dry heaving all through the walk over here.

Snowflake just better hope she doesn't have to get a tetanus shot because if she does, Blondie's going down harder than Lauren Zizes when she trips.

"Why hello Santana."

Santana smiles politely at the older woman who greets her.

"Hey Mrs. Jones." she says kindly in return, approaching the counter. Mercedes' mom is in the middle of putting together a fresh display of beignets in a glass container - the sight of which momentarily distracts Santana. It takes her a second to refocus her attention on the woman and not the pastries. "How are things going?"

"Can't complain." Mrs. Jones smiles, dusting her hands off on her apron once she's done. "And yourself?"

"Same."

Mercedes comes out from the kitchen just then, carrying what Santana assumes is her order. "I got this, mom." she assures, bypassing the older woman.

"Good seeing you, Santana." Mrs. Jones says to her on her way back to the kitchen. "Tell your grandmother I said hello."

"Will do." she nods.

Santana waits for Mrs. Jones to disappear behind the swinging door before addressing her daughter with a smirk. "Well, Chaka Khan. You got my order?"

Mercedes rolls her eyes. "Sure do, heifer." she nods, setting down the two fully loaded paper bags on the counter in between them.

Santana brings one of the bags closer and peers inside. "Extra cornbread, right?"

"How could I forget?" Mercedes scoffs, resisting the urge to roll her eyes again. "You only said it like _ten times_ over the phone."

"And the beignets?" she checks, raising her brow at the other girl.

"Enough to feed a small army, Santana." Mercedes confirms, turning toward the cash register. "You know this is like twice your usual order." she comments casually, stealing a sidelong glance at her.

"Quinn's never eaten here and I don't know what she'd like best so I figured I'd order a little of everything." she shrugs, still busy double-checking her order.

"So...it's just you two then?"

"What? No. Brittany's gonna be with us." she frowns, handing over the cash once she's sure Mercedes got her order right.

As the money's exchanging hands, Mercedes asks rather bluntly. "You sweet on her?"

Santana's brow furrows. "Who? Brittany. No, of course not. She's my best friend."

She looks up in time to see Mercedes shake her head, her eyes fitting to the ceiling. "Not Brittany, Santana. _Quinn_."

"Quinn?" she repeats, confused. "What the hell makes you think that?"

"The way you look at her." Mercedes answers simply enough. "The way she looks at you. You see me and Kurt have been speculating—"

Santana snorts. "Since when are you and Lady Hummel besties?"

"Since we found out we're like kindred spirits." Mercedes says with a slight laugh. "We got a lot of the same interests and boy is not nearly as shy and quiet as he leads people to believe he is." she chuckles before waving the thought off.

"Anyways, you and Quinn. It just seems like something's there." she shrugs, handing over Santana's receipt.

"Well there's not." she snaps, snatching the piece of paper out of her hand. "We're just friends."

Mercedes stops and sighs, regarding her for a serious moment. "Santana, look I know my family's kind of religious but we don't judge that kind of stuff. Love is love. There's no need to lie about it."

"For fuck's sake, Wheezy. We are _just_ friends." Santana hisses, louder than intended. But she can't help it. She's sick and tired of everyone she knows: Puck, Brittany, now Mercedes, getting up in her business, telling her how she feels about a girl she _knows_ she doesn't even like in that way.

Mercedes smiles at her ruefully. "You're in denial. That's cute."

Santana rolls her eyes. She's just about to blow this joint when she sees Wheezy remove the glass casing storing the beignets. "You know Kurt and I have we have a bet going." she brings up, handing over a still warm beignet wrapped in a napkin.

Naturally she takes it, but she's no less suspicious. "If you two get together before the new year, Kurt will have to pay me fifty bucks."

Mercedes lifts her gaze to stare at her smilingly. "So do a sista a favor and make Quinntana happen before then? I can put that money toward some new Air Jordans I've been eyeing."

"Quinntana?" she frowns, unsure if she heard right.

Mercedes raises her brow. "Your couple name. Duh." she scoffs lightly.

"That's an _awful_ couple name. Quintana is a state on the east coast of fucking Mexico."

Mercedes pulls back with a nonapologetic shrug. "That was the best combination of your names we could think of. Not our fault your names don't really go together."

"Whatever." Santana rolls her eyes and grabs her food. "I'm out."

"And proud?" Mercedes smirks, unable to help herself.

Santana stops and glares at her over her shoulder. "Bite me, Okra Fried Winfrey." she sneers.

Mercedes just laughs. "See you at Rachel's party tomorrow." she waves, smiling sweetly.

Santana turns back around, groaning silently.

_Ugh. Don't fucking remind me._

—

When Saturday night rolls around, Santana still can't believe she's actually going to a Rachel Berry party.

Like seriously, wasn't that one of the signs of the Apocalypse? Or at the very least thirteen years of bad luck or some shit?

_Jesus fucking Christ_. "Move it along, snowflake." she yells loudly, pushing herself upright off Quinn's bed. "I wanna get this night over with as soon as possible."

"Knock it off, Santana." Brittany playfully scolds, sitting at Quinn's vanity table while she does her make-up.

She rolls her eyes and flops back on the bed with a groan. "Órale."

"And you say Rachel's over dramatic." she hears Quinn say, the snowflake finally emerging from her bathroom.

Santana props herself up on her elbows and scoffs. "You did _not_ just compare me to Berry."

"If the shoe fits." Quinn shrugs, smiling teasingly.

"You better watch it, Blondie. I still haven't forgiven you for that little stunt you pulled yesterday. I'll so make a weave outta them goldie locks."

Quinn rolls her eyes, bemused. "Yes, Santana. I'm sure you will."

Smoothing out her dress, she steps forward and gestures to herself. "So...how do I look?" she asks them, tentatively worrying her bottom lip like she expected them to say she looked like a fucking hag.

Santana quirks her brow. "You plan on putting leggings on under that dress?" she questions, the blonde's legs being the first she noticed.

Quinn looks down at her bare legs and frowns. "Uh, no?"

"You're gonna freeze outside."

Quinn stares at her, brow furrowed, and laughs shortly. "You remember who you're talking to right? I don't ever get cold, you know that."

Santana crosses her arms over her chest, rising from the blonde's bed. Her eyes dart back to the pair of gams displayed in front of her. "Regardless that dress is _way_ too short."

"Not this again, Santana." Brittany sighs, just as Quinn exclaims.

"You are not one to talk! Have you _seen_ the way you dress?"

Santana shakes her head. "Irrelevant, Q. _I_ look hot."

"You look like a hooker." Quinn interjects with a scoff. "And your skirt is like three times shorter than mine!"

"Fabray, if all I can focus on are them pretty little legs, then that dress is _too_ short. You're not going out like that."

Quinn stares at her incredulously. "What are you, my mother?"

Santana rolls her eyes and pushes past the blonde to get to her closet. After rifling through it for a couple seconds, she finally finds a dress more suitable. "Here." She shoves it into Quinn's chest. "Wear that. You look better in blue anyways."

"Thanks but no thanks." Quinn tosses the dress on her bed. "I'm fine with what I have on."

"Fine." Santana turns around and sits back down on the bed, her arms crossed stubbornly. "I'm not going."

"Fine." Quinn shrugs carelessly, not one to give in so easily. "I hope you have fun all by yourself on a Saturday night."

Frowning deeply, she remains seated, simmering on the inside, until her genius brain comes up with a brilliant way to get her way _and_ to get back at Quinn for yesterday.

With a mischievous grin firmly planted on her lips, Santana reaches behind her and grabs her purse. Once she finds what she's looking for, she uncaps it and walks over to the unsuspecting blonde.

"Hey, Q."

Quinn, having been in the middle of touching up her lip gloss in the mirror, turns around only to splattered not-so-accidentally with Santana's hot sauce.

"Betcha wished you hadn't given that back, huh?" she smirks, waving the little bottle tauntingly.

"What is wrong with you, Santana?" Quinn gasps, looking borderline murderous. "Are you insane?"

_Damn, snowflake's kinda hot when she's all fired up..._

Wait.

What?

"¡Mierda!" Santana yelps suddenly, caught off guard by the hard punch that effectively deadens her arm. "Damn Fabray." she glares, bending down to pick up her fallen bottle of hot sauce. "You been eatin' your wheaties or what?"

Evidently hitting her hadn't been enough, because next thing she knows, Blondie's getting up in her face and flicking her goddamn nose.

Like she was a damn dog.

"The fuck—"

Quinn snatches up the blue dress and sharply turns on her heel. "You owe me a new dress, Santana." she all but grits out.

Santana scoffs loudly after the blonde. "I don't owe you shit, Fabray."

Quinn just slams the bathroom door shut in response.

"Did you see that, Britt?" Santana whips around and gestures to her nose incredulously. "That batshit crazy snowflake just fucking _maimed_ me."

"Yeah, I saw." Brittany nods, unable to help her giggling.

Santana glares at her for a second. "Whatever. I'mma go find some ice. I don't want my nose to swell."

"I'm sure if you just apologized, Quinn would offer to kiss and make it matter." Brittany suggests, rising up on her toes hopefully.

"Yeah, _no thanks_." She storms out of the room. "I'm staying the hell away from that disturbingly violent nutjob for the rest of the night."

Brittany snorts. "Yeah, we'll see about that." she mutters, smiling to herself.

—

For the first half hour Santana finds herself sitting on the floor of Rachel's basement, bored out of her fucking mind. Puck had epically failed in getting them booze, claiming he couldn't get caught stealing from the convenience store again. The loser.

Now their only drink options were fruit punch, soda, and while Berry at least had the decency to set out some wine coolers, they were still..._wine coolers_.

No one gets buzzed off two wine coolers, let alone drunk.

Which is what Santana was aiming to be, if only to keep her homicidal tendencies at bay. Seriously. She's not sure which was more unbearable - this so-called "party" or Rachel's unbelievingly hideous grandma dress.

It's only when people threaten to leave (herself included), that Rachel gives into Puckerman's request to let him break into her dads' liquor cabinet - which was surprisingly well stocked.

(Well, actually, it's not _that_ surprising. If she had to live with Rachel Berry for sixteen years, she'd be boozing it up too).

It isn't long after Puck gets his hands on a bottle of tequila that a game of "Never Have I Ever" is being declared.

Santana grudgingly gets up and joins the circle in the middle of the room. While usually a fun game, her expectations were not high for this ragtag bunch of misfits. They were probably _the_ lamest group of people even in existence and she doubted any of them have done anything even remotely cool in this duller than dull town.

"Never have I ever forgotten song lyrics in the middle of a performance." Rachel starts, smiling proudly at that fact.

Though she never has, Santana takes a shot just for the sake of the alcohol, along with Brittany and a few others.

"Never have I ever gone streaking on a dare." Artie offers next.

Her, Brittany, and Puck are the only ones who drink.

She has a feeling this is literally how the rest of this game is gonna play out.

Finnocence's next. "Never have I ever fooled around while my parents were home."

It's just Brittany and Puck this time.

Noticing she hadn't taken a shot, Mercedes shoots her a look across the circle. "C'mon, Santana. Drink up."

"Watch it, Wheezy." she warns. "That one doesn't apply to me."

"Yeah, right." Mercedes scoffs.

"Your reputation does precede you, Santana." Rachel nods, equally doubtful.

"First off, _fuck you_ both. And secondly, if you knew my abuela, you'd know she'd gut me like a fucking fish if she ever found me hooking up with someone under her roof. I value my life way too much to risk that shit."

"Uh, never have I ever kissed a boy." Sam speaks up, trying to break the moment of tension.

Santana, Brittany, and Rachel are the only ones to drink. Santana casts a disbelieving glance at the rest of the glee girls - and Kurt.

Seriously?

Granted, Quinn she knew about...but wow. That's like uber pathetic. If these losers haven't even been kissed, they probably don't have any worthwhile secrets to spill.

So fucking lame.

"I'll go next." Brittany declares, holding up her shot glass. "Never have I ever secretly crushed on anyone in this room."

That time _everyone_ takes a shot.

But mind you, Santana only does so for the hell of it.

It's not like she's _actually_ crushing on anyone.

Cause she's not.

After a few more rounds and instances of avoided eye-contact, the group moves onto "Fuck, Marry, Kill" which turns out to be much more telling game than "Never Have I Ever".

And a hella lot more fun, that is until _Fuckerman_ decides to put her on the spot.

"Santana. Rachel, Mike, and Quinn."

Santana's expression falters and quickly morphs into a full on glare. Here's praying she didn't look as mortified as she clearly felt.

"Uh," she wracks her brain for a second, knowing right off the bat how to fill _one_ of those slots but the other two not so much.

Now with a beer in hand, she takes a hearty swig before answering.

"Fuck Mike because if his dancing is any indication, he'd be a total freak in bed." Boy Chang blushes hard at that admission. "Marry Quinn cause...I don't know...she can cook and shit." Santana shifts a little, uncomfortable, suddenly second guessing her decision to Marry Quinn, as it were. It seemed like the less gay choice at the time.

"And kill Rachel, obviously." she adds, purposefully avoiding eye contact with the blonde sitting a few spaces over. "No offense Berry."

"None taken Santana." Rachel says, nodding primly. "As long as you don't act on those subconscious desires any time soon. I'd like to achieve some level of stardom and at least one Tony Award before dying young, if I must."

She just rolls her eyes. _God_.

Reaching across the circle, she swipes the bottle of tequila out of Puckerman's hands.

This was gonna be the longest fucking night of her life.

—

Once the games end, Rachel decides it's time she fulfill her hostess's obligations...by singing them a fucking song.

It's awful.

No, _really_. Her song of choice was some sappy Celine Dion ballad that was beyond yawn-inducing.

If it hadn't have been for Mercedes and Wheels hijacking the stage with their rendition of the Black Eyed Peas' _Let's Get it Started_, Berry probably would have put them all in comas.

Fortunately, after that, almost everyone else decides they want to perform too - if only to keep Berry off the stage and prevent her from ruining things like she always does.

The glee guys at one point sing the Counting Crow's _Accidentally in Love. _It's a super lame song but one you can't help but sing along with.

(Especially if you've got a couple beers in your system already).

By the time Santana takes the stage, Berry's "party" has actually turned into a legit party, no air quotes needed.

While everyone's on the dance floor dancing their asses off, Santana sings that Tegan and Sara song, "Closer".

And no, she did not fucking choose that song because of their whole lesbian thing.

She's not some lesbian supremacist when it comes to song selections.

If she was she'd be stuck singing nothing but Indigo Girls and Melissa Etheridge songs all the time.

Anyways.

She's in the middle of the chorus, killing it like a boss, when she notices Mike taking the lyrics "lets make things physical" to heart out on the dance floor.

A sight which she would have normally found to be hilarious, had he not been getting so up close and personal with _Quinn_, of all fucking people.

"Órale, Dim sum!"

Santana stops singing and snaps her fingers to get his attention. "Quit trying to impregnate my homegirl." she yells over the music. "She don't want no bamboo munchin' panda babies. No me gusta!"

"Yeah, uh-huh, return to the Great Wall!" Santana watches as Boy Chang moonwalks away. "Yes, _thank you!_"

Though she resumes her singing, Santana still keeps an eye on him. She keeps an eye on _all_ of them.

Even Kurt.

(Who knows, he may be looking for someone to be his beard).

Quinn waits until the song ends, and she's off the stage, before approaching her.

"Santana, do me a favor and quit scaring away every person who so much as comes within talking distance of me."

She turns her head and smirks at the slightly tipsy smile adorning the blonde's pretty pink lips. "Trust me, Q. I'm doing you a favor."

"Do me a real favor instead." Quinn says breathily, those glinting hazel eyes catching her off-guard. "Dance with me."

Santana blinks her confusion. "What?"

"Since it seems highly unlikely that you'll let anyone close enough to me to dance, _you_ now have to dance with me." Quinn nods, taking her hand.

Santana's helpless to follow as the snowflake pulls her out onto the dance floor. "Fine. Whatever."

No big deal.

None whatsoever.

After Quinn finds them an unoccupied spot, she turns around and lifts her gaze expectantly.

"Uh." With those piercing eyes staring up at her, Santana suddenly can't remember how to fucking start.

Slowly, and unsurely, she steps closer.

Quinn cocks her head to the side as Santana's one hand finds her waist and the other hangs in the air. "Do you plan on leading a waltz?" she drawls out questioningly, a light chuckle escaping her.

"What? No." She jumps back and smoothly shoves her one hand back into her hair like that'd totally been her intention all along. "I was just joking. Duh." she scoffs, turning around quickly. "C'mon, we can dance later. I needs me another drink first."

Or ten.

Quinn rolls her eyes but acquiesces.

At the bar, Rachel's being her usual loud and obnoxious self as she's making drinks for everyone - only now it's ten times worse thanks to all the alcohol.

Speaking of which, Santana's pretty sure she has no idea what she's doing behind that bar. It looks like she's just randomly mixing shit together and handing it out.

"Heyyy, girlfriends!" Rachel sets down two red solo cups in front of them. "Heeere ya go. On the house."

Santana eyes the pink liquid dubiously while beside her Quinn takes a tentative sip. "What is it?"

"Who cares?" Rachel scoffs, throwing her head back and downing her own cup of the mixture like a mad scientist.

It was like a scene out of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Excluding the loud belch at the end, of course.

Sporting similar expressions of disgust, she takes Quinn's hand and leads her away from the now cackling brunette.

"It tastes like pink! IT TASTES LIKE PINK!"

—

Santana waits until the latest Gaga track ends before stepping off the hardwood floor.

"_Holy Shit_." she exclaims breathlessly, dropping onto the carpet, missing the couch by a couple inches.

She can't remember the last time she danced so hard.

Quinn plops down next to her, just as spent.

Meanwhile Brittany, no less energetic than when she arrived, is still tearing up the dance floor (Ke$ha's playing and she'd be damned if she sat out on her favorite artist).

Santana and Quinn had kept up with her for as long as they could, lasting an impressive hour and a half without a single break.

_Good God._

Exhausted to say the least, Santana leans back against the couch and grabs the nearest cup, uncaring of whose it was, and downs its contents instantly.

Once it's empty, she tosses the cup over her shoulder and looks around for another. When she sees none - or at least none within her reach - she turns to Quinn and leans her head on her shoulder. "Q, get me another drink, would ya?"

"Can't move." Quinn mumbles, resting her head on hers. "You get it."

"My legs won't let me."

"Well neither will mine."

"But _I'm thirsty_." she groans, her voice muffled against Quinn's shoulder.

"So am I but I'm not moving."

"_Please?_" she drags out, dropping a quick kiss to her shoulder. "When we get home I will cook you _so_ much bacon..."

Santana smirks against her skin, feeling the other girl shift underneath her at the mention of the _b-word_.

"I wish you'd stop using the bacon card." Quinn huffs, grudgingly rising to her feet.

"Not my fault your unhealthy obsession is just so easy to exploit."

Quinn throws her a playful glare over her shoulder before walking across the room. A minute later, she returns with two new cups filled with what tasted like Redbull and vodka mixed together.

"Puck said we looked like we needed it." Quinn explains, catching her expression after taking a sip.

"It's alright." she shrugs. "Better than nothing."

"LET'S PLAY SPIN THE BOTTLE!" Rachel suddenly bellows from the stage, looking significantly drunker than before. "SPIN. THE. BOTTLE!"

"Órale." she groans, her hand flying to her temple. "Someone shut that troll's trap."

"C'mon guys!" Brittany materializes in front of them, sweaty and panting, and excitedly grabs onto Quinn's unsuspecting hand, practically tugging her to her feet. "Spin the bottle!"

What the—?

It takes a second for Santana to react properly - her motor skills a little slow thanks to the alcohol.

"Oh no you don't, B." She latches onto Quinn's hips promptly, and pulls her back down, right onto her lap. "No me gusta."

_Like_ _hell_ Quinn was gonna get her mack on with any one of them losers.

As the others settle around in a circle, it becomes apparent that they were missing some players.

"Quinny, Santan-tana! Come join us!" Rachel waves them forward.

"Yeah, it'll be fun!"

Huh. Drunk Tina doesn't stutter.

"Yeah cause swapping spit with each other just sounds _so_ appealing." she sneers, now with Quinn nestled in between her legs.

Quinn waits until all eyes are off them before sending Santana a small grateful smile. "Thanks." she whispers quietly, relieved.

Santana lightly bumps her nose against her hair, her own lips quirked. "You know I got your back, snowflake." she murmurs.

Still with a smile, though now it's a little more on the bashful side, Quinn turns back around and settles comfortably against her front.

With every spin of that beer bottle, Santana finds herself becoming less and less interested in the drunken make-outs taking place, and growing increasingly more distracted by the feel of Quinn's body against hers.

Not to mention her scent.

It's crazy but she swears Quinn smells exactly like fresh snow.

—

In spite of all the alcohol she's consumed so far, Santana felt she was holding up pretty well. She wasn't stumbling all over the place, didn't feel like she was about to pass out any time soon, and even after catching a whiff of some poor sap's upchuck in the guest bathroom, didn't feel inclined to puke.

(Though she will admit the loud music was starting to be a little much).

Wincing slightly, Santana keeps one hand on the wall as she eases her way down the basement stairs. Currently blaring through the Berry sound system was some Run D.M.C., much to her surprise.

Who would've thought Berry was into old school hip hop?

Wait.

Wasn't one of her dads black?

Okay. That makes sense.

Maneuvering through the compact dance floor, she can't help but scoff an incredulous laugh once her gaze settles on her two dancing blondes.

She's not sure which sight is more hilarious - Brittany doing the running man or Quinn trying to do the cabbage patch.

Definitely the latter.

"Hey, Romy and Michele!" Though right in front of them, Santana still has to yell over the music. "You two forget you were _white_ while I was gone?" she grins.

Brittany sticks her tongue out at her, now doing an incredibly dorky but still amazingly good sprinkler dance. "You're just jealous you don't have our skill."

"If you say so, B." she chuckles.

"Santana." She turns her head in time to feel the other blonde take her hand. "C'mere!"

Bemused, Santana allows the clearly tipsy, _and giggly_, Quinn Fabray to drag her back upstairs.

"Where the hell are we going, Q?"

"It's too hot down there." Quinn says as way of explanation, leading the way toward the Berry's sliding back door.

The second she gets the door open, Quinn drops her hand and takes off into the backyard.

"Quinn!" she laughs, immediately running after the crazy blonde.

"I am one with the wind and sky!" Quinn declares laughingly, twirling around and falling back onto the nearest heap of snow.

As she dissolves in a fit of giggles, Santana trudges through the ankle deep snow and stands over her, hands on hips. "What do you think you're doing, silly girl?"

Quinn just shakes her head. "It's so beautiful out here, don't you think?" she sighs up at the sky. "I mean look at that full moon, _gorgeous_."

Santana follows her gaze and shrugs. It looked like an ordinary moon to her.

Turning back around, she beckons Quinn forward. "C'mon, get up before you get sick."

Quinn pushes herself upright but makes no move to stand. "Santana, how many times do I have to tell you I don't get cold out here?"

She just rolls her eyes. "You're not superhuman, Q. But you are out of your fucking mind if you think I'm just gonna risk you catching pneumonia and dropping dead on me just because you want to frolick in the snow without so much as a cardigan on."

Quinn ignores the gesture and tucks her arms behind her head instead. "Snow is my element." she says, closing her eyes with a defiant smile.

Santana rolls her eyes. "Okay, snowflake."

"But it is." she maintains, opening her eyes to meet her gaze. "C'mon, Red." Quinn pats the space next to her invitingly.

Santana looks at her questioningly, then figures she was just referencing to the color of her dress.

"Okay, _Blue_." she smirks.

If it wasn't for the alcohol she would probably not be doing this but whatever.

She lays down next to Quinn, shoulder to shoulder, and stares up at the cloudless night sky, sighing. As much as she hated to admit it, the cold snow really did feel good to her overheated body.

"Santana?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you really miss me if I dropped dead?"

"Of course I would." Santana looks over at the blonde and frowns deeply, not expecting her to be serious. "You're my girl."

Quinn quirks her brow. "Your girl?"

Santana rolls her eyes, if only to distract from her reddening cheeks. "You know what I meant." she mutters.

"No, I'm not sure that I do." Quinn confesses quietly, unexpectedly.

Santana props herself up on her elbows and stares back at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Santana..." Quinn starts, strong at first before trailing off timidly. "I may not be much of a people person and I don't have a lot of experience with relationships..."

"If you've got something to ask, then just ask it." she says, not at all harshly. She just figures she'd save the girl the trouble - she knows expressing herself wasn't one of Quinn's strong suits.

"You're very protective of me." It's not so much a question as a observation.

_Okay_.

"You're one of my best friends," she shrugs easily, lying back down. "I'm entitled to be."

"Every time a guy tries to so much as talk to me, you go nuts...to say the least."

Santana snorts up at the moon. "Not my fault the guys that approach you are total losers who aren't worth a second of your time."

"_Who is worth my time then?_"

Santana hesitates for the longest time. Not because she has to think about it, but because the answer that comes to mind is one that catches her off-guard.

One she wouldn't even know how to begin to process.

"Santana?" Quinn gently presses.

"Someone just as awesome as you are." she finally says. It's not the same response floating around in her head, but it's just as honest.

Santana shifts her head slightly, daring to meet those hazel eyes even though there's a small voice in her head warning against it.

"_You're_ pretty awesome." Quinn breathes out softly.

Santana stares at the blonde for a prolonged moment, those smiling eyes mesmerizing as fuck. She shakes her head after awhile, turning away and pushing herself upright.

"Psh. I know that." she scoffs, smiling cockily.

Quinn stands as well. There's a moment's hesitation as she's following Santana, before she lets out, "Why did you keep me from playing spin the bottle earlier?"

Santana stops right as they reach the back porch. She turns her head but doesn't quite meet the blonde's gaze. "Because your first kiss shouldn't be forced." she says simply, though her heart rate admittedly does go up a notch.

"How do you know I've never been kissed?" Quinn wonders, surprised.

"Because you told me you've never even been on a date before." Santana sighs, fully turning around. "And I know for a fact you're not the type to go around kissing people just for the hell of it."

"Yeah, I'm not." Quinn nods, smiling faintly.

"And you shouldn't be. That's how you get mono."

Quinn looks up at her curiously. "Have you ever had mono?"

"I've had mono so many times it turned to stereo." she deadpans, earning a short chuckle from the blonde.

"Dork."

Santana smiles slightly, moving closer to the porch railing. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Quinn do the same.

They stand in relative silence, vaguely able - even from out here - to hear the thumping bass music coming from Rachel's basement. Santana could only imagine how loud it was down there.

Sighing, she begins to idly trace the patterns in the wood. She doesn't think much about anything at that point, until Quinn's staring becomes apparent.

She's looking at her with a kind of a pensive stare that Santana immediately finds unnerving, making her feel self-conscious even.

Suddenly nervous, she shifts her eyes away, unable to look at her right now.

"Santana..." Quinn starts out timidly. "About _that _night..."

Her body involuntarily tenses. "What night?" she questions lamely.

"Santana, don't play dumb." she hears the blonde plead, sounding surprisingly vulnerable.

"What about it?" she sighs, grudgingly meeting hazel eyes again.

"You wanted to kiss me." Quinn presses on quietly, determined to get the words out before the alcohol evaporated from her system and her courage along with it. "I could tell, by the way you were looking at me."

Santana's gaze flickers past Quinn to the door. The part of her that knows she's not nearly drunk enough for this conversation wants to go inside and leave this conversation out in the cold - to run essentially - while the other, deeper part of herself wants to stay rooted, needing desperately for this moment to play out.

"Maybe." she concedes, shrugging aloofly, that latter part of her winning out - if only for the moment.

"I wanted you to kiss me."

Her eyes flash at the blonde's whispered confession, taken aback. Sober Quinn would never be so blunt.

Suddenly, Santana feels super lightheaded. "Yeah?" she breathes out nervously, now _really_ beginning to regret that Redbull. Her heart felt like it was about to explode right out of her chest, it was beating so hard.

"Yeah." Quinn nods, her breathing a little off.

Santana swallows hard, feeling a little tremor run through her at the intensity of Quinn's gaze. She's breathing deeply now, stuck with that heavy pressure sitting on her chest feeling - the one that made her feel like she was liable to burst out of her skin at any given moment.

Fuck.

Santana turns away with a quick shake of her head, her palms suddenly clammy at her sides. Quinn's staring alone makes her feel like her body was going to burn from the inside out.

And the sight of those sinfully captivating lips and that glistening skin did really not help none.

It's all just...it's just too much.

And yet not nearly enough.

Santana's pretty sure she's on the way to losing her fucking mind.

"Stop looking at me like that." she whispers hoarsely, after her gaze flickers and catches Quinn in the act. She tries hard to sound annoyed but fails miserably.

After all how can she when Quinn's looking at her like _that?_

There's not a person on this earth who wouldn't kill to be on the receiving end on one of _those_ looks, whatever they meant.

"Sorry." Quinn whispers back, though without dropping her gaze. Her eyes fit back and forth between Santana's own, seemingly searching for something. "It's just..." She ducks her head finally. "I don't know." She blinks, shaking her head. "I've just got the strongest sense of déjà vu right now."

"Yeah?" Unbeknownst to the rest of her body, Santana gravitates closer.

"What are you doing?" Quinn asks breathily, her hazel eyes widening a little, watching as she continues to close the distance between them.

"Good question." she murmurs, distracted by the blonde's slightly parted - and therefore very inviting - lips.

The warm air of Quinn's labored breathing beckons her forward, as does her scent which just about makes all her senses swim. Deep down she knows the feeling is just a side effect of all the booze, but _fuck_ she could care less about that.

She just needs to...needs to...

That's when Quinn kisses her.

It's only a simple press of the lips - but still _very_ much a kiss - and Quinn pulls away long before it occurs to her to kiss back. Dismayed, she opens her eyes only to be met with the sight of the blonde involuntarily licking her lips.

Santana feels her eyes cloud over with desire, that simple gesture coupled with the taste of Quinn still on her lips unlocking something primal.

"You just had to go and steal my thunder, didn't you snowflake?" she murmurs with a slight shake of her head.

Stepping impossibly close, she places her hands on Quinn's hips, then tugs her forward until their pelvises meet.

Santana captures her little gasp of surprise with her mouth and swallows it.

Quinn stiffens against the contact at first, caught off-guard by it, before sinking into the kiss with a welcoming sigh.

Santana leans in a little further and brings her closer, trying valiantly to keep a steady pace, even though all she wanted was to fucking devour her whole. She has to fight back a moan as Quinn's kisses become more insistent.

She grips her hips tighter, not expecting the blonde to be so damn responsive and...eager.

Although as compliant as Quinn was, she was still..._unpracticed_ as they say... so their rhythm was a little off at times. Santana could tell when she was over thinking things by the way she would pause and re-angle herself.

But it wasn't awkward by any means. In fact it felt normal. Almost familiar, in a way.

_You'd think they've done this before._

Emboldened by the alcohol, Quinn rises up on her toes and slips her hand behind Santana's neck, pushing into the kiss, suddenly with the notion that _she_ should be controlling the kiss.

Santana allows it - _for like a second_ \- before unceremoniously pushing her hand away. "Sorry, snowflake." she murmurs against her lips, relishing in the way Quinn whimpers. "I'm leading this dance."

To prove her point, she tangles her fingers into Quinn's hair and angles her head back, effectively taking back the reins and deepening the kiss.

She's usually not so aggressive, even during drunken make out sessions, but tonight...she doesn't know what's got into her. All that pent up emotion that's been driving her crazy these past few weeks, she guessed. It was bound to rear its ugly head sooner or later.

But Quinn knows she'd never hurt her. Not in a million years.

Santana eventually leaves the blonde's mouth, both of them in desperate need of air. While they recoup, she takes the opportunity to admire those sexy hazel eyes of Quinn's and her incredibly swollen lips.

She is just too fucking gorgeous, it's insane.

Santana dives back in almost instantly, unable to help herself, and quickly reunites their lips. The kiss, while less frenzied, is no less passionate.

"Santana." Quinn's barely able to get the word out, what with Santana's mouth working its sweet magic on hers. "Wait."

She pulls her lips away with a wet smack and turns her head to the side for respite.

Santana all but pounces on that glorious neck being offered to her. Her lips trail down the side of it, nibbling along, as she searches for that sweet spot she knows _everyone_ to have.

Quinn rises up suddenly, a sharp gasp escaping her when Santana's teeth find her pulse point. _Why hello there_, she smirks against the skin, thoroughly pleased with that reaction. She latches onto the spot without hesitation and begins sucking hard, intent on leaving leaving her mark.

_Mine_, something deep inside her rumbled.

"Santana." Quinn whines helplessly.

A distant part of her registers the pressure now against her shoulders but Santana can't bring herself to part from Quinn's delectable skin. Especially when she hasn't properly marked her yet.

"Santana." Quinn pushes harder this time, sending her backpedaling a step.

That sobers her up pretty quickly. "What's wrong?" she asks, legitimately concerned she'd hurt her or something.

_Shit. It was too much. She was too rough, she shouldn't have__—_

"I think I'm going to puke."

Santana stops and blinks. "What?"

Quinn doesn't answer. Just whips around and hurls over the side of the porch railing.

Santana rushes forward without thinking and holds back Quinn's hair for her. "Sorry, Q." she apologizes, but Quinn's a little too _preoccupied_ to pay her any attention.

Santana waits patiently for her to finish, her one hand rubbing Quinn's back while the other keeps her hair away.

"You okay, snowflake?" she asks softly, helping the girl straighten up once she seemed to be done.

_Oh crap_.

Santana turns away suddenly, the smell of it finally hitting her - _and her stomach_.

"Oh God." she stumbles back quickly, hand over mouth.

Quinn's wiping the back of her mouth with her hand when she notices her expression. "Santana?"

Santana stops for a second, believing the feeling to have passed, only to shake her head.

_Nope. Still there._

Santana looks back at the concerned blonde. She barely manages out, "Bitch, you better fucking hold my hair back" before having to rush over the edge to spill her guts.

And Quinn does, _for a time_.

"Oh, God."

Apparently Quinn wasn't as done as either one of them thought.

Out of the corner of her eye, Santana sees a mass of blonde lurch over the railing.

While they're puking side by side into Rachel's family's rose bushes, both blindly grapple for each other's hair, trying in vain to keep the other's tresses free of vomit.

—

The party was just as they left it - only now that more alcohol's been consumed, everyone's inhibitions were completely out the window. Brittany, ever the stripper drunk, was dancing on the bar with her pink and purple polka dotted bra on display for all the group to see. While she was doing her thing, some of the guys had taken to making it rain with Monopoly money.

_Órale_.

Shaking her head, Santana treks back up the stairs with a bottle of whiskey.

Quinn's still standing by the sink when she returns to Rachel's bathroom. "Glee on Monday is going to be very interesting." Santana chuckles, closing the door behind her.

Quinn turns away from the mirror and frowns at the sight of her uncapping the bottle in her hands. "What's that for?"

"To get rid of the puke taste." she responds, taking a quick swig before offering her some.

Quinn politely declines with a wave of her hand. "Thanks, I used some of Rachel's mouthwash."

They both did and while it left Santana feeling minty fresh, it did not make her feel any better - hence the need for more alcohol.

"Just drink some Q." she sighs, rolling her eyes briefly. "It'll make the headache go away."

Santana waves the bottle temptingly and while Quinn looks dubious at first, she ends up taking the bottle anyways. "Fine." she huffs.

Quinn takes a small sip and then passing the whiskey back to Santana.

It isn't long before those sips turn into full blown swigs.

—

_A hella lot of alcohol later..._

"Helloo, _Tony's_?"

Unable to hear anything, Santana bangs her cell phone on the side of the bathtub, exasperated. This place has crap reception.

"Helloo," she tries again, a slight slur having invaded her speech. "This be Rosario Cruz." she declares loudly into her phone's speaker. "I may or may not be related to Penelope."

"And Emily Stark!" Quinn chimes in drunkenly from beside her.

"Yeah, and we'd like one - no two - yeah, _two_ wheelbarrow full of breadsticks promptly delivered to..." Santana pauses, then squints at the blonde in her arms questioningly. "Who's bathtub are we in again?"

"Bacon!"

"What?" Santana snorts a laugh, then returns her attention to the call. "Oh yeah, breadsticks and girl for my bacon—I mean _bacon_ for my girl. Tons all up in there!" She yells into the speaker once more before hanging up. "Apúrate!"

Quinn laughs along with her as she carelessly tosses her phone over her shoulder.

Man, they were soooo drunk.

It wasn't long after they'd cracked open that bottle of whiskey that they'd decided to have a little party of their own right here, rather than go back downstairs with the lame-o's.

"Santantannanana." Quinn babbles, adorably failing to say her name properly. "I've got a question for you."

"Shoot, snowflaky." she nods, taking another swig from their nearly empty bottle.

Quinn begins idly playing with Santana's little crescent moon necklace. "Say my apartment's burning and you can either save me or the breadsticks. Who do you choose?"

"That's not fair. The breadsticks don't have legs." she pouts, which sets Quinn off giggling again.

The blonde lifts her head and and turns to cup Santana's cheek. "You're sooo cute." she cooes, pecking her lips affectionately.

Santana smiles stupidly against her lips, then steals a chaste kiss of her own. And then another. And another.

"You wanna know something?" she whispers, now lightly nuzzling Quinn's cheek. "I'm pretty sure I've tasted you before tonight."

"Wanky." Quinn giggles, unable to help herself. "Maybe you've been stealing kisses when I'm asleep." she suggests, her lips lightly brushing against Santana's. She arches her brow teasingly. "When you're cuddling me."

"I told you _Santana Lopez_ don't cuddle." she grumbles, nonetheless accepting the other girl's sweet snowflake kisses.

Quinn smiles cheekily and punctuates each word with a kiss. "You. Keep. Telling. Yourself. That."

"Whatever." Santana scoffs. She turns her head and downs the rest of their bottle.

Quinn shifts her body so her head is resting on her chest. "Santana?" she asks quietly.

Closing her eyes, she leans her head back against the rim of the bathtub. "Hmm?"

"Do you ever feel like your soul is trying to talk to you?"

Santana scrunches up her nose. "My soul?"

She feels Quinn nod against her. "Yeah. When I'm asleep I feel like mine's trying to show me stuff in my dreams. But it's like, I don't know, my head or something, it's blocking it out. Keeping me from understanding."

"What kind of stuff?" Santana wonders curiously, pressing her nose into the blonde's hair and inhaling deeply.

_She smells like home_.

"I don't know, important stuff." Quinn shrugs. "I dream about you, you know."

Santana pulls back enough to meet her gaze and smirks. "Wanky."

"At least I think it's about you." Quinn amends. Then after noticing Santana's deep set frown, she explains. "Not like that. I mean it is you but it's not you. I mean it seems like you. But I don't know for sure if it actually is you." Quinn crinkles her nose. "Am I babbling?" she laughs shortly, unsure.

Santana lightly shakes her head, smiling down at the blonde fondly. "Yeah, snowflake. You are." She deposits a quick kiss to her forehead. "Careful now though." she playfully warns. "You're like one argyle sweater away from being a hotter, blonder version of Berry."

In that moment the bathroom door bursts open.

Both Quinn and Santana turn their heads.

"Speak of the hobbit and she doth appear." Santana mumbles, disgruntled by the intrusion.

Although, she can't help but take a little enjoyment in seeing Rachel looking so worse for wear. While still in that god awful green dress, now she had added to her attire a seriously effed up looking Barbra Streisand Fanny Brice wig.

If Santana wasn't mistaken, the thing was on backwards.

"What are you looking at Berry?" she sneers, shifting uncomfortably under Rachel's bewildered gaze. "Haven't you ever seen two cuties chilling in a bathtub?"

Rachel opens her mouth to respond, only to promptly shut it.

"Oh, gross!" Santana groans, knowing that look all too well. She turns her head quickly, not wanting to see Berry barf all over herself.

Santana only dares to peer over her shoulder when the hurling noises stop.

At least Rachel had made it to the toilet in time.

But still. _Gross_.

"C'mon, Emily." She pats Quinn's backside, encouraging her to get up. "Let's blow this fruit stand. Berry's presence totally burst the flawless lady goddess bubble we had going."

"Okey-dokey, Rosario." Quinn hiccups, having to climb out of the tub because she can't properly stand up.

When the blonde lands on the bath mat face first, Santana can't help but dissolve in a fit of giggles. "Órale, snowflake." she sighs, shaking her head.

She steps out of the tub and reaches down, hoisting the now hysterically laughing blonde back to her feet.

"You okay?" she has to check.

Quinn nods vehemently, throwing her arms around her neck. "You betcha, Emily."

"I'm Rosario." Santana corrects with a small chuckle. "_You're_ Emily."

She tries to get Quinn to walk on her own, but that attempt fails dismally. "C'mere, cutie." she grunts, lifting up the blonde and holding her behind her legs.

Santana staggers back a step. "Goddamn, Fabray. You're like a fucking sack of potatoes."

Quinn giggles uncaringly and rests her hands on her shoulders. "Hey, Rosie? Remember when I ate the potato and I had it on my face? You wiped it on my dress. My nice one. It was superrrr awkward."

"Snowflake, you are _superrrr_ drunk." Santana grins, mimicking the blonde as she carries her toward the door.

That's when Quinn starts to sing. Yeah, _sing_.

"_Now my life is rosy, when I'm with my Rosie,_

_With a girl like Rosie,_

_How could I be blue?_"

Santana stops and stares up at the blonde incredulously. "Seriously, snowflake? _Showtunes?_"

Goddamn she _was_ morphing into Rachel.

Quinn continues on singing, undeterred.

"_Hand in hand we'll mosey,_

_Me and little Rosie_...oh bye Rachel!" she waves on the way out. "Great party!"

Rachel, still hugging the toilet seat, grunts an indiscernible acknowledgement before muttering weakly, "It tastes like pink...like pink."

—

As soon as they're out in the hallway, Santana sets Quinn back down on wobbly legs. Drunk Santana isn't nearly as strong as sober Santana.

They stumble down the hallway, hand in hand, no set destination in mind. Quinn trips into the wall at one point and inadvertently pulls Santana with her, sending them clumsily crashing into each other.

"Take it easy, snowflake." Santana chuckles, slipping her arms back around the blonde to steady her.

"My bad." Quinn snorts, cackling a laugh.

Glancing down at their position, Santana decides to use it to her advantage.

"You smell good." she hums appreciatively, gently pushing Quinn into the nearest door.

"Pretty sure I still smell like puke." the blonde mumbles, embarrassed.

"Nah." Santana leans down and runs her nose along the column of her neck. "All good." she assures, pressing chaste kiss on her skin. "Just Quinn."

"That's good." Quinn whispers breathlessly, blushing a little.

Drawing back, Santana nods to the door behind them. "Whose bedroom do you think that is?"

Quinn shakes her head, now with a goofy smile. "I don't know. Why?" She looks up and stops. Her smile fades when the reason behind Santana's mischievous smirk registers. "Santana..."

Santana, realizing what conclusion Quinn must have jumped to after hearing the slight panic in her voice, quickly shakes her head. "Oh, no. Relax, snowflake. I'm not looking to do anything like _that_."

She feels her face redden a little, because yeah, sex hadn't even crossed her mind.

"I just wants to get my mack on." she assures, gently cupping her cheek. "And, you know, possibly go through Berry's stuff."

Quinn's brow furrows questioningly.

"What?" Santana reaches around her and twists open the doorknob. "When I'm in another person's home, I like to root through their things." she defends with a shrug. "It's a thing I do."

Quinn frowns as she pulls her along into the darkened room. "Wait, did you do that with _me?_"

—

"Santana, you look like an an institutionalized toddler." Quinn laughs, watching with amusement as she emerges from Rachel's closet, wearing one of the girl's carousel horse sweaters over her dress.

Santana stops at the foot of the bed and scoffs at her. "Bitch, I look hot _and_ smart. I feel like Michelle Obama."

Quinn pushes herself upright. "You are _sooo_ drunk." she snickers, shaking her head. "If sober Santana were here she'd ridicule you to no end."

"She would not. Sober Santana would be like, _damn you all kind of sexy_. _Let's get our mack on_."

"Don't tell me Sober Santana has a secret Rachel Berry fetish _on top_ of the whale one!" Quinn flops back on the bed with a playful groan and covers her face.

"Just cause I paid attention in biology _one_ time don't make me a fish freak." Santana circles around, stopping only when her legs bump into the side of the bed. "And ew, Rachel Berry is about as attractive as a cat when it's getting its temperature taken." Gripping the hem of her - well, _Berry's_ \- sweater, she pulls it overhead and tosses it aside. Too damn hot for that shit anyways. "No me gusta."

Quinn crawls over to where she's standing and rises up on her knees. "Me gusta Santana." she purrs, wrapping a finger around Santana's necklace, and dusting a feather light kiss to her jaw.

"Mmm." Santana hums appreciatively as Quinn guides her down to settle on top of her. "Likewise, snowflake."

She turns her head and descends her lips down the blonde's neck. "You're like...the best." she murmurs reverently, lightly nipping and sucking along her skin. "So blonde, and awesome, and smart. Not to mention cute as hell—"

"Santana."

Feeling Quinn shift beneath her, she pulls back to meet those heavily lidded hazel eyes, and hear more of that husky whisper. "What?"

Quinn pushes herself up onto her elbows so they were practically nose to nose. "You're rambling and I wants to get my mack on."

Well fuck, she doesn't need to be told twice.

* * *

**AN: Just as an fyi, in spite of their drunken affection, Quinntana won't be getting together right away. Of course I'm not going to make you all wait forever, but don't expect them to jump into a relationship in the next chapter (er, next, _next_ chapter). After all this is Quinn and Santana we're talking about.**

**As for future chapters, I plan on possibly writing a Brittany POV chapter (after all no one wants Quinntana to happen more than her)**, **and eventually a Quinn POV, but we'll see how that goes.  
**

**And yeah, I think that's all I need to tell you for right now. As always thank you all for your continued support, it overwhelms me in the best possible way!**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Hello again, sorry for the long wait. I had hoped to get this out before the end of April but I needed a little more time. There are just not enough hours in the day. **

**No drunken make-out sessions for Red and Elsa, unfortunately, but they do make progress with their relationship in their own way.**

**As always, read. enjoy. review!**

* * *

"Let me at him!"

Even as she feels herself being restrained, Red continues to claw through the air, hoping to still make contact with the dough boy's face.

Or any part of him really. She's not picky.

No one knows what the hell is going on - what evoked her outburst -but that doesn't stop them from attempting to intervene.

"Red, would you please?" Snow's obnoxiously loud voice carries above the rest, unsurprisingly. "Calm down!"

Red just snarls in response, further incensed by the short brunette's decision to act as a human buffer.

"Berry, if you'd rather not risk me breaking your abnormally large beak, I suggest you move out of the fucking way."

With a quick roll of her eyes, Snow ignores her warning and whips around. Her exasperation shifts to concern instantly. "John, are you alright?"

Red's nostrils flare at the name.

"Fine, Snow." the stupid looking man-boy nods, grunting slightly from the pain in his jaw. Robin helps him up to his feet, the force of Red's earlier punch having knocked him back on his fat ass.

Undeterred by her two _blonde_ restraints, Red wildly kicks out her legs in attempt to send his gigantor frame stumbling back to the ground.

Fortunately for him, he's well out of her reach.

Motherfu—

"Red, would you stop this nonsense?" Snow huffs, after ducking out of the way of Red's flailing legs. "Honestly. You're acting like a wild animal."

"I_ am_ a wild animal." she grits out, burning eyes locked on John, her body still resistant against Rapunzel's unnaturally strong grasp.

While the full moon was just around the corner, with her wolf lurking right on the surface, it was daylight and therefore not possible for her to wolf out.

But that didn't mean she still couldn't do some damage.

Snow rolls her eyes once more. "You are a human being who's overreacting in a very childish manner." she primly informs, causing Red to stare at her incredulously.

"You are _so_ not one to talk, dwarf."

Snow all but stamps her foot in outrage. "I am not a dwarf!" she cries like the petulant child that she is.

It's hilarious yet annoying, but at least it's able to distract Red from her violent thoughts. Momentarily, anyways.

Robin steps forward after assuring his friend was alright. "Would someone mind explaining what the _hell_ is going on?" he demands loud enough so to bring back everyone's attention.

"I gather by Red's hostility that she and John know each other in some way." Snow answers, her head tilting as her gaze flickers between them curiously.

"Yeah, we know each other alright." Red mutters, not necessarily relaxed but no longer feeling thoroughly enraged. She shifts away from Rapunzel's hold, suddenly made self-conscious by all the pairs of eyes on her.

"Care to elaborate, Red?" Snow sighs, hands moving to her hips.

Hard eyes locked on John, who was avoiding all their gazes, Red feels her jaw start to clench. She hated how easily the memories could flood back in. As if it were just yesterday that they happened.

Her temper flares right back up as a result. "He's the one who fucking stole my cloak!" she exclaims, her body jerking forward a little.

Snow turns her head, brow furrowed. "That was you?" she asks of John who just nods sheepishly.

"Well I'm sure he had a good reason for it." she rationalizes, shifting her gaze back to Red, only to steal another sidelong glance at the last second, as if to add, _"Right?"_

Red rolls her eyes, a bitter scoff escaping her. "Oh _yeah_. He had a great reason for it."

"I did!" John cries out indignantly, raising his shoulders in the process. "I needed money to pay my family's taxes—_we were going to lose our farm!_"

Red turns away with a shake of her head, unwilling to hear any more. After all it's not as if she hasn't heard his crap before.

Boo-_freaking_-hoo.

"So you stole Red's cloak with the intent of selling it and using the profit to pay your dues." Snow surmises easily enough, raising a fairly judgmental eyebrow at John.

"Everyone knows magical items sell really well." he mumbles in return, acknowledging the fact with an uncomfortable nod.

Red's head snaps at that comment. "Well you should've sold something that belonged to you!"

"I didn't have anything!" John yells right back, growing frustrated.

In that moment Rapunzel pushes her hand into her shoulder, preventing the forward propulsion that threatened to overtake Red's body. "Red." she delicately warns.

At the same time Elsa releases her forearm and slides her hand down to take hers. The meant to be comforting gesture effectively catches Red off-guard - the cold of Elsa's hand against her overheated one making for quite the shock.

But in spite of that, once her body recovers from its' initial reaction, the contact leaves Red feeling oddly soothed.

Red glances down unthinkingly and watches, transfixed, as Elsa's thumb gently brushes across the back of her hand. Her touch is so faint that it should barely register but in actuality it makes her heart beat faster for some reason.

Weird.

Red lifts her gaze and Elsa, seeing where her eyes had drifted, promptly lets go, it only just occurring to her what she'd been doing.

"Sorry." the blonde mumbles out self-consciously, backpedaling a step.

Frowning, her mouth parts to assure Elsa otherwise, but another voice suddenly interjects.

"—_How did you even know about Red's cloak?_" Snow was asking of John, with her back now to them. She, like everyone else, was completely oblivious to the moment just shared.

Realizing she was being talked about, Red grudgingly turns her head, away from the blonde who was now avoiding eye contact with her at all costs.

"He was fucking stalking us." she answers irritably, interrupting before John himself could explain.

John looks up over Snow's head and scoffs loudly. "I was not."

"Oh. Sorry." Red rolls her eyes in a grand gesture, then amends. "You were stalking _Snow_."

The hobbit's head whips around so fast it's any wonder it didn't just snap off completely. "Wait. What?"

It was disturbing how much more flattered she looked than unnerved.

"He was staying in my village the same time you were." Red explains with a glare, arms now folded across her chest. She hadn't known it at the time, of course, having found out after she'd tracked down the neanderthal and retrieved her fucking cloak.

"I came there looking for work." John nods, his face slightly burning from the looks he was receiving from his friends. "And in spite of what Red thinks," He shoots her a pointed look before reverting his attention back to Snow. "I was actually trying to find a honest way to make money. And yeah, I ended up finding a job but it wasn't paying nearly what I needed it to..." he trails off for a second, then shakes his head. "Anyways I noticed you two gathering water down at river one day-"

"Creeper."

John ignores her comment, continuing on as if uninterrupted. "It was drizzling that day. I remember because it's like my favorite type of weather - you know not really raining but it still smells like rain - and I thought you looked really pretty in it." he admits with a shrug.

At Snow's blush, he smiles his dopey little half smirk. "And I kinda wanted to approach you, but then I realized who you were from the wanted posters all over the place and then I was like 'oh crap'. I knew hanging around you could get me in a lot of trouble and you know with everything else I had going on, the last thing I needed was like the Evil Queen coming after me or my mom."

Snow's smile falters a little during that second admission.

"But then I heard you sing and..." John trails off again, his head shaking unknowingly. "I dunno, it's like you touched something in me."

"Pervert." Red deadpans, earning a sharp jab in the ribs from Rapunzel.

Over her shoulder, Snow shoots her a quick glare. "Please continue, John." she encourages, reverting her attention.

And totally eating up every second of this.

"After that I kinda just stuck around without you knowing and admired you from afar."

Red would have rolled her eyes had she not been so appalled by the fact that Snow actually looked touched. She shakes her head at the shorter brunette incredulously. Cause, seriously?

That was _not_ fucking romantic.

"And that's how I figured out Red was a wolf and that her cloak was magical." John finishes, raising his shoulders briefly. "I kinda overheard you guys talking about it."

Behind him, the rest of the guys stop and exchange confused glances.

"Wait, _wolf?_" one repeats.

"Yeah, I'm a fucking werewolf." Red glares, shifting her stance when she sees a few of them adjust their grip on their weapons. She can smell their uncertainty, their fear. "Got a problem with it?"

"Yeah actually I do." Robin scoffs, stepping forward. "Last thing I need is you mauling my stud face off."

"She's not dangerous." Elsa speaks up suddenly on her behalf, brushing past Red's shoulder and fixating Robin with a hard stare.

"I bet those villagers would disagree." John mutters, gaze averted. Though his eyes go wide the second it registers he'd actually said that out loud.

"You seriously gonna throw _that_ in my face?" Red loudly scoffs, mouth parted in disbelief. Without warning she rushes forward to knock his teeth in, only to have Rapunzel and Elsa pull her back at the last second

"When it was you and your fucking stupidity who fucking caused those deaths?" she shrieks.

John rolls his eyes before exclaiming in exasperation, "For the last time if I'd known what you'd do I never would've stolen your stupid cloak!"

"What the _hell_ did you think was gonna happen, you moron?!" she snaps, her body starting to tremble and muscles starting to twitch. "You took my cloak right before a full moon!"

"I regretted it as soon as I did it." he yells. "I told you all this already! I'm no less sorry now than I was then."

"That doesn't erase what you did, fetus face."

_Or what I did._

"And I'll have you know the only reason I didn't fucking rip you apart when I had the chance is because I am on a no blubber diet!" She's so mad it doesn't register right away that Rapunzel and Elsa were in the process of dragging her away. "But make no mistake, you fucking orca, I have no problem selling your whale blubber to make oil lamps! I'll make a nice profit and buy me some bling!"

"Red, c'mon." Rapunzel huffs, struggling to maintain her grip on the thrashing Latina.

"Let go of me." she grunts in response, attempting to tug herself free. The two blondes pay her no attention and continue through the forest until they reach the river.

"Seriously guys." With the fetus face no longer in sight she wasn't so much as enraged now as she was pissed off by her blonde restraints. "Let go!"

While Elsa acquiesces, Rapunzel retains her firm grasp. "Sorry, Red, but this is for your own good."

"What?" Suddenly, Red finds herself being spun around and released - more like _launched_ \- into the fucking river, of all places.

"God damn! Rapunzel!" she exclaims furiously once she resurfaces. The water wasn't deep but it was enough to soak all her clothes through.

"You stay there until you've calmed down." Rapunzel orders with a smirk, arms folding across her chest.

Red throws her hands in the air, flicking water up everywhere. "I _am_ calm!" she shouts, still fuming at her so-called friend.

"Rapunzel that was uncalled for." Elsa frowns, hitching up her dress and carefully maneuvering to the water's edge.

Rapunzel just shrugs. "How else do you expect a hot headed werewolf to cool down?"

"If I catch a cold and die, I'mma so haunt you in the afterlife, Goldilocks." she warns, pointing a stern finger at the blonde. "Como un fantasma!"

"You don't get sick, Red." Rapunzel sighs.

Red pays her no attention, instead snapping her gaze toward Elsa. "Snowflake, I demand you freeze them goldie locks of hers right off her head!"

With a light shake of her head, Rapunzel leans into Elsa and murmurs, not at all sarcastically, "She is _so_ lovely around this time of month, isn't she?"

"I heard that!"

"Good!" Rapunzel calls back before glancing back at Elsa. "I'm gonna go get her knapsack so she can change." she informs, rolling her eyes slightly. "If she starts to sulk, just leave her in the water."

"I am not sulking!" Red huffs petulantly.

"I'll be right back."

Elsa waits until Rapunzel's gone before moving to stand precariously on a nearby rock. "Will you promise to behave if you I help you out?" she questions, staring down at Red with a raised brow.

"Don't patronize me, snowflake." Red grits out, swimming toward her feet.

Elsa crouches down a little to accommodate her and outstretches her hand. "You won't try and pull me in, right?" Elsa asks at the last second, noticeably hesitating when Red reaches up to take her hand.

Though initially amused, Red pulls a frown when she realizes Elsa was legitimately concerned. "I can't swim." the girl explains quickly, ducking her head in embarrassment.

Red raises her brow, surprised, but then remembers about the whole 'lived isolation for over a decade' thing.

Right. They're gonna have to fix that.

"You have my word, snowflake." she nods, smiling earnestly before jutting out her hand. "Now help me up, por favor."

Once she's out of the water, Elsa takes a step back to give her some room. "So does Rapunzel typically throw you in large bodies of water when you...?"

"When I lose my temper?" Red finishes with a rueful smile. "Not really, no." she murmurs, unclasping her cloak and shrugging it off. The damn thing was now triple its weight thanks to the water. It's any wonder she didn't sink straight to the bottom of the river with it on.

"She's never really had to. I mean I always go a little nuts around this time of month but I've never really been riled up that much before." Red confesses with a slight grimace. "It's crazy how Rapunzel knows exactly what I need sometimes."

After letting that thought trail off, Red lightly shakes her head to herself. "Anyways."

She takes a step back and then, without warning, begins whipping her head back and forth to shake out the excess water out of her hair.

"Red!" Elsa squeaks, caught off-guard by the sudden onslaught of water. She moves to cover her face but by then Red had already stopped.

"My bad."

"How on earth did I not see that coming?" Elsa sighs to herself, her eyes nearly rolling as she wipes the water droplets off her cheek.

Red just smiles and bends down to pick up her cloak. It was uncanny how effortlessly Elsa could make her feel at ease, without even doing anything really. A five minutes ago she was ranting and raving, ready to just fucking pounce, and now she felt totally normal.

Red walks over to one of the larger rocks and spreads her cloak across the surface to dry.

But then again, Red sneaks a quick glance at Elsa over her shoulder, turning away before she could notice, maybe it was just the cold ass water that brought her back to reality.

_Yeah. That seems more reasonable_, she concludes.

Red walks back over and settles down on a log to kick off her wet boots. Elsa automatically moves to join her.

"I'm sorry for what he did to you." Elsa says after a moment, her voice quiet and soft. Red tenses a little, really not wanting to get into it, but doesn't tell her as much.

"I may not know all the facts but I know exactly what it feels like to be wronged by a stranger. And it isn't—whether it's by someone you know or not, it's a feeling I wouldn't wish on anyone. Let alone my friend."

Red feels herself manage a small smile but it fades quickly. "In a way he's the one who outed me as a wolf to my village." she murmurs, staring past Elsa. "Everyone fucking found out about me thanks to him."

Breathing out a heavy sigh, Red shuts her eyes and turns her head up and to the side, as if to push the burgeoning tears back.

"My grandmother's hasn't looked at me the same way since."

Her abuela was a tough old broad hard enough to please as it was and _that_ night had put an irrevocable strain on their relationship. After all the whole reason her abuela had given her the cloak in the first place was to prevent anything bad from ever happening, to keep her - well, _their_ \- secret safe.

_Secrets are called secrets for a reason_.

Those words, said once the cat -er, wolf - was out of the bag, echoed in her head clear as day and still left her with the same gnawing feeling she'd felt when she initially heard them. Even then she had known her grandmother had been alluding to something other than the whole wolf thing.

"My abuela had been so disappointed," she continues, if only to distract herself from those thoughts. "Had even gone as far as blaming everything on me, like it was my own fault for people finding out. When it fucking wasn't."

"My father was like that." Elsa offers quietly.

Red turns her head to see that her gaze was fixated on her hands in her lap. She wasn't wringing them like she usually did, which Red saw as a good sign. "After the incident with Anna when we were children...he wasn't very understanding. I'm sure he'd known it was an accident, what I did, but he didn't react that way. He accused me more than anything, like I'd done it on purpose."

Elsa wasn't looking at her directly but it was clear by her tone that her father's memory still haunted her.

Red really wished she could do something about it, or at the very least say something, to make it better. But Elsa's past was her past, as awful as it was, and no amount of reassurances could revert the damage that had already been done.

It's a shame Elsa's parents were no longer alive - she would have _loved_ to give them a piece of her mind for causing Elsa such pain. Granted she knows they probably they meant well, and that they loved their daughter, but it was obvious from their actions that they feared her as well.

Which was understandable - people always fear what they don't understand, or can't control, but still...brainwashing their youngest child, taking her memories away and leading Anna to believe Elsa just didn't want to see her anymore? Hiding Elsa away from the world like she was some kind of monster?

It was all just so fucked up; it royally pissed her off.

Red shakes her head to herself, already feeling her muscles starting to tense up again. Stupid full moon. It makes her so goddamn emotional.

"Are you cold?" Red startles a little, Elsa's voice effectively snapping her out of her inner monologue. "You're trembling."

Embarrassed, she meets the blonde's adorably concerned frown and lightly shakes her head. "Nah. Feels good." she assures, leaning back and pushing her still damp hair out of her face.

Elsa glances up at the sky and sighs. "As much as I'd like to continue our way, we should probably make camp here. It will be dark soon."

Red looks up as well. Even though there was still plenty of light she could make out the faint outline of the moon.

"The full moon is coming up." Elsa murmurs, apparently able to see it too.

Red levels her gaze at the blonde. "You don't have to worry about me hurting anyone, if that's what you're getting at." she states seriously, watching Elsa's eyes drop back to meet hers. "In spite of what it looked like a few minutes ago, I do have control now. I didn't then."

Elsa's expression flickers, her brow now creased in confusion. "I know that." she frowns. "I'm just bringing it up because I...well I'm not sure...I just wanted to know if there's any way that I can help you get through it." she quietly gets out, initially fumbling her words.

Red smiles faintly. "There's not, but thanks all the same." she nods appreciatively.

"Does it hurt?" Elsa asks after a moment, curious but at the same time hesitant. She was unsure if the question constituted being nosy. "Transforming, I mean."

"Not anymore, no." she answers, lightly shaking her head. "I mean it kind of used to when I first started, but now it's almost like liberating."

Nowadays whenever she let her wolf out, it was more roaring exhilaration than petrifying misery.

But before, the lack of control terrified her to no end. Feeling your body morph into another and to not be able to do anything about it would be scary for anyone. The buildup to the full moon was no picnic either. In actuality it was probably more of a hassle than actual transformation process.

The wild mood swings, the temperament, the never ending feeling of confinement, the er, _horny...ness_.

Part of her journey in learning control was realizing that it wasn't a bad thing to release her wolf every once and again, on nights besides those of the full moon. It definitely helped her better retain a level head.

Which is probably why she was acting so crazy today. She hasn't wolfed out in a while.

"Just so you know," she hears Elsa start off firmly. "I don't think any less of you." Red cocks her head, not understanding. Elsa hesitates under her gaze, the direct attention making her resolve falter. "I mean I'm not—I just, I know better than anyone what it feels like to do something out of your control."

True they had that in common. "But you've never actually taken a life now have you?" she sighs, her jaw ticking at the memory.

"No." Elsa concedes, but with a bitter smile slowly making its way across her features. "Just caused an eternal winter. Jeopardizing the lives of my entire kingdom."

"Still a few pegs below murder." she mutters under her breath.

"It was an accident." Elsa delicately reminds. "And like you just said you didn't have control of yourself then."

Red averts her gaze. "Yeah, but still it happened." she huffs, shaking her head to herself, frustrated.

She'd tried to prevent it though. Honestly. _That_ night, her and Snow, when they couldn't find her cloak and the full moon was well on its way - they'd tried chaining her up as a precaution but it didn't do any good. She broke free.

And though she doesn't remember her wolf's actions, she distinctly remembers the morning after. Waking up in a pool of blood, surrounded by the three mangled bodies of the men the wolf had devoured.

"I'll carry that with me for the rest of my life." Red says quietly, though somewhat grateful that she hadn't hurt Snow. Annoying as she may be, she was still a friend.

Red stares out at the water for a moment, her gaze then returning to the blonde. "It just...sucks, you know?"

"Oh I know." Elsa concurs, her eyes dropping down to her hands and then back again, unwilling to dwell.

For a moment they just sit in silence. Neither one presses the subject further, both knowing talking about personal matters, particularly the mistakes they've made, in detail weren't really their thing.

"I'm sorry about earlier." Red hears herself say after awhile. Now that the anger had long subsided, it was beginning to sink in how kind of embarrassing it was to have had Elsa see her so fired up and...insane. "I always go to the yelling place. I have rage."

"I can't imagine that's healthy."

"It'd be pretty unhealthy if I kept it bottled up all the time." she smirks, encouraged by Elsa's small smile.

"Can't argue with that, I suppose." she lightly chuckles, before adding, "And you don't have to apologize." Red's brow lifts of its own accord when Elsa's hand comes to rest reassuringly over her own. "You didn't offend me or anything..."

Elsa, unthinkingly, follows where her gaze had landed and trails off. Within the same instant, she's taking her hand away, believing to have overstepped her boundaries with her lingering touch.

"I'm-" The apology is right on her tongue, but Red cuts her off.

"Elsa," Red gives her a gentle smile as reaches over and interlocks their hands. "This is _okay_." she nods, lifting their hands a little and squeezing to emphasis it.

Watching Elsa exhale deeply, Red can't help but shake her head; snowflake was always second guessing herself, apologizing for her every action.

And though Elsa seems to relax at her affirmation, she can still pick up on the blonde's uneven breathing. Red doesn't understand what she has to be nervous about, it's not like they've never held hands before.

Contemplating pulling away - if only for the sake of preventing another Elsa panic attack - Red fixates her attention on their hands.

She grazes the back of Elsa's hand with her thumb, enjoying the softness. At the same time she admires the contrast of their skin, Elsa's fair against her tan, and the temperature - her heat against Elsa's cold.

So different on the outside they were, yet so similar on the inside.

Red turns her hand over, not thinking much of it, and continues her exploration of Elsa's palm. Being born into royalty, Elsa never had to be subjected to manual labor so her hands were ridiculously soft. Unlike Red's own which were already developing callouses from the work she did around the farm.

Another contrast, she thinks distantly, _rough and smooth_.

Her finger circling around the center of her palm, Red's surprised to find it's the coldest part of her. But then again, how could it not be? After all right here is where all her magic stemmed from.

Red can't help but shake her head in awe. Magic had always fascinated her and Elsa's was no different. The idea that she could conjure something out of nothing, materialize actual living creatures of snow and ice with a few flicks of the wrist, was fucking mind-blowing.

Seriously. Sometimes she still can't wrap her head around the fact that every single particle of that majestic ice castle Elsa had back in Arendelle came from these delicate little hands here.

"What are you thinking?" Elsa finally asks, out of curiosity, and probably due to the unease brought on by Red's prolonged silence.

She brings her gaze back up from the hands. "I'm thinking you're really fucking amazing." she beams, a light laugh escaping her at the blonde's expression. Elsa looked nothing short of stunned.

"Oh." the blonde finally manages out, a surprised blush quickly spreading out across her cheeks. "Thank you."

Though she ducks her head, Red can still see the way her brow creases. Almost instantly, Elsa lifts her head questioningly. "But why?" she can't help but ask.

"Lot of reasons." Red shrugs. She glances back down at her palm. "You know your hands are smoother than a baby's ass?"

Elsa cocks her head slightly. "And you know this from experience?" she wonders, unsure if she was joking or not.

"Well I don't typically fondle baby butts if that's what you mean." Red playfully glares, resulting in a quiet laugh from Elsa.

"You're absurd."

"Shows what you know, snowflake." she scoffs.

Elsa just rolls her eyes, albeit in a fond way.

With Elsa's hand still in hers, Red asks what she thinks is an innocent question. "Would you mind like showing me your magic?"

Elsa stills for a moment. "Why?" she asks cautiously, her body seizing.

Red's expression falters once she looks up, not expecting to see the panic and insecurity return to Elsa's eyes.

"Because, it's like, the _coolest_ thing ever." she says automatically, cracking a cheeky grin to put the girl at ease.

While Elsa smiles a little at her terrible pun, she doesn't look any more convinced.

Frowning, Red makes sure to point out. "You're not gonna hurt me, snowflake." she says, sensing that was the reason behind her hesitance.

"I could accidentally freeze your nose." Elsa protests, albeit it feebly. "And then what will happen? It will break off and you'll be without a nose and then you'll have this gaping hole and it will probably get infected and then you'll die a nose less wolf."

Red just stares at her.

"Well that escalated quickly." she blinks, laughing shortly thereafter because _what? _"Snowflake, you're not gonna freeze my nose off."

"You don't know that."

"Elsa." Red drops her chin to shoot her a pointed look. "C'mon. You and I both know nothing bad is going to happen. And it's not like you've never done magic in front of me before." she reminds, thinking back to that badass moment before they left Arendelle when Elsa froze that strip of the fijord.

Elsa shakes her head. "You weren't standing so close to me then." she argues. "And I wasn't thinking about it."

"Then don't think about it now." Red says easily enough. "Your problem is you over think things too much and then when you do you drive yourself toward a S.P.A."

Elsa's brow creases in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Snowflake panic attack." she briefly explains. "It's a term I just made it up."

Lips pursed, Elsa slides her hand out of Red's. And Red, thinking she'd offended, immediately opens her mouth to apologize. She stops herself, however, when the blonde raises a tentative hand in the air.

It only takes a simple flick of her wrist for it to start snowing above their heads.

Or rather, _her_ head, she should say.

Chuckling to herself, Red tilts her head back a little. The glittering snowfall drifts down onto her hair and shoulders and lingers there, Elsa's magic preventing it from evaporating even in this weather.

"Ay man." Red squints one eye when she feels one particular little snowflake lands directly on her eyelashes.

Elsa chuckles softly. "Here." Leaning forward, she delicately lifts the small ice crystal off for her.

"Thanks." Red murmurs, blinking to find the perfect snowflake resting on the tip of Elsa's finger.

She breathes out a small sigh, in awe. "That's so..."

"Don't say 'cool'." Elsa warns, looking over at her with playfully narrowed eyes.

"You know me so well." Red laughs guiltily.

Elsa shakes her head and lightly sighs. "We are going to have to work on extending your vocabulary beyond horrible ice puns."

Red attempts to glare but a smile creeps across her lips anyways - those smiling hazel eyes hard to stay mad at, even jokingly.

"You really should smile more often." she comments suddenly, admittedly feeling a little flutter in her chest at how damn cute she looks. The feeling only intensifies when Elsa drops her gaze bashfully. "Seriously like all the time."

Elsa glances back at her, amused but still shy. "I'd look a little mad if I walked around smiling all the time, wouldn't you think?"

"Probably." Red concedes, nodding as she chuckles.

But still...what a fucking great smile.

"Oh!" Elsa realizes with a start that she still had it snowing above her head. "Would you like me to stop the snow?" she asks, hand already at the ready.

Red's gaze flickers overhead. "Nah." she answers while holding out her hand, allowing some snow to collect on her palm. "It's okay. I like it."

Smirking to herself, Red redirects her gaze and lightly blows the snow flurries right into Elsa's face.

Elsa's nose crinkles in response.

Red nearly laughs, it's so adorable, but is stopped short of doing so when she catches a glimpse of the unamused glare that had settled across Elsa's features.

Next thing she knows it's hailing.

"Ow!" Caught off guard by the little pellets of ice, Red ducks her head, flinching from the contact. "Why you little..."

Elsa releases a minor squeak and clambers to her feet laughingly, Red having managed to gather some hail in her hand. To throw at her, no doubt.

Unfortunately for the snowflake, Red has fast reflexes and is able to latch onto her wrist. "Where do you think you're going?" she laughs, pulling Elsa back before she can successfully get out of range.

"You really want to start something with someone who can pelt you with her own endless supply of ice and snow?" Elsa inquires, her brow quirked challengingly.

Red just shakes her head, unsurprised that the blonde had made her only ammunition dissolve. Not that she was actually gonna do anything with it. "Five minutes ago you were scared of hurting me, now you're more than willing to do me harm. You're a deceptive little snowflake, aren't you?" she smirks, eyes narrowing teasingly.

"No, you're just a horrible influence." Elsa lightly scoffs, in attempt to distract from her guilty blush. "You bring out the worst in me."

"If by worst you mean _best_, then yeah, I totally do." Red quips, drawing back smugly. "I'm awesome like that."

Elsa playfully rolls her eyes. "You keep telling yourself that."

"I will because it's true." she continues, unperturbed. "You think you're the only one I have this effect on?" She shoots the snowflake a pointed look and scoffs. "Psh. Rapunzel's like _way_ more awesome since she met me, and I didn't even think that was possible. That just goes to show how skilled I am. And don't even get me started on Snow." Her eyes fit to the sky just thinking about it. "Before me that girl was _incapable_ of shutting up. Seriously. Never. Shut. Up."

"I resent that remark!" says an unseen voice that instantly has their attention snapping away from each other.

Snow herself emerges from the trees a second later, looking quite indignant.

"Were your ears burning, Berry?" Red teases, watching short brunette cross over toward them huffily.

Snow stops and takes in her appearance. "Why are you all wet?" she asks, her brow furrowed.

"She needed to cool off." Elsa answers smoothly, meanwhile shooting Red a not-so-subtle smirk.

"In the literal sense, I see." Snow nods, appraising them both.

Red rolls her eyes and folds her arms across her chest. "What do you want, Snow?"

"Well I just wanted to inform you both that you are welcome to join our camp and share our supplies for as long as you need. Also your friend Rapunzel asked me to bring you this." Snow holds up what Red just realizes is _her_ knapsack. "I apologize if I'd interrupted anything."

Red glares hard at the stupid little smirk Snow fixes her with. "You didn't." she assures, maybe a little too quickly. And defensively.

"Are you sure your friends are truly alright with the arrangement?" Elsa inquires, concerned.

"And by that she means to ask can they deal with a _werewolf_ hanging around?" Red interjects, not that she actually wanted to stay with them or anything.

"The boys bare no ill will toward you or your condition, Red." Snow confirms, prompting her to raise a skeptical brow. "I vouched for you myself and they trust me."

"Uh-huh. _Sure_."

"They do!" Snow insists, her eyes wide.

"Like I'd want to be within ten feet of Potato Head anyways." Red mutters, exchanging a glance with Elsa only to be given an admonishing stare in return.

Snow heaves a sigh,dropping her gaze. "While there is nothing I can do to rectify what has been done, if it's any consolation John is _truly_ sorry-"

"Don't go apologizing for him, Snow." Red warns seriously, sharply cutting her off. "Just don't."

Snow just frowns. "Well considering you won't accept his apologies-"

"And I'm never gonna." she snaps, eyes flashing. "So save your breath alright?"

"Don't you think you're being just a _tad_ unreasonable?"

Red stares at her, jaw slackening. "You did not just fucking say that."

"John made a mistake yes but he owns up to it and has repeatedly apologized for what he did." Snow sighs, unwilling to let Red's withering glare intimidate her. "Holding a grudge after all this time seems a bit unwarranted. He is _truly_ sorry, Red."

"I _killed_ people because of him, Snow!" Red near-shouts, throwing her hand out in exclamation. "If he hadn't taken my cloak-"

"You never would have learned to control your wolf." Snow calmly reminds. "Which from what I've heard from your friend Rapunzel, you're doing quite well with."

Red opens her mouth to maintain her argument but Snow ventures on, with her hands flying up appeasingly. "John's actions, however misguided, did show you the error in your way of living." she says quickly. "You stopped suppressing the wolf with your cloak, and instead learned to control it. Which I think-"

"Are you saying I should be fucking _thanking_ that neanderthal?"

"Of course not." Snow huffs, nearly rolling her eyes. "I am merely saying that yes, he made a mistake and yes, something truly awful occurred because of it but holding onto that resentment and anger isn't going to change anything. It's absolutely useless. Instead you should accept that what's done is done and move past it. After all, we have _all_ made mistakes."

Red just snorts. "You must really have the hots for that walking dough turd if you're seriously defending what he did."

"He's my friend and a good one at that." Snow maintains, her arms folding across her chest. "And I'm not going to just you get away with verbally and physically abusing him."

Red rolls her eyes grandly. "I threw _one_ freaking punch." she drawls. "And it's not my fault he doesn't know how to fucking duck out of the way."

"Regardless violence is not a means to an end."

"It is when the end is making John boy feel like utter crap." she quips with a smirk.

"You're being very immature." Snow says, unamused.

"Call me whatever you want." Red shrugs carelessly. "I have every right to be pissed at him."

Snow shakes her head, conceding to defeat. "No use arguing with you." she sighs. "Just refrain from assaulting him any further, would you? I happen to care about his well being."

"Yeah well I don't." she snorts, earning a light nudge from Elsa.

"But you care about me." Snow gently reminds, chuckling when Red scrunches her nose up distastefully. "Or at least you did. Even if you'll probably never dare admit it." She lifts her gaze before quietly adding, "After I left your village I was under the impression we were still friends."

"We are." Red sighs tiredly, silently groaning. "You...you just have real shit taste in guys."

Snow smiles in spite of herself. "He's a good person." she nods. "Just like you are."

"Ugh." Red turns away with a grimace. "Don't group us together, please."

"Fine." Snow holds up her hands, nodding promisingly.

"So will you be staying with us then?" she then asks hopefully. "Of course it's perfectly understandable if you don't...but I have missed you Red and would like very much to catch up. You are one of my best friends after all."

Red pulls a face. "Your sentiment is seriously grossing me out. Stop it."

Snow rolls her eyes, albeit fondly. "I'll take that as a yes." she smiles.

Red grudgingly nods her confirmation, but only after exchanging a glance with Elsa to ensure she had her support. "Just keep the fetus face away from me. And so help him god if he dares make eye contact with me."

Snow can't help but shake her head. "You're ridiculous, you know that?" she sighs.

Smirking, Red opens her mouth, her response already lined up.

"And don't say _ridiculously awesome_." Elsa and Snow interject in unison, effectively surprising one another. Their eyes meet with a laugh.

Red would have laughed too, had she found it, you know, amusing. But she didn't.

And you know what else she didn't find amusing?

Snow taking her shared moment with Elsa as consent to place her hand on Elsa's arm as she leads them back to camp.

Now she knows Snow was about as desperate for friends as Red was to roll John back to the ocean like the fucking whale he is, but that was _her_ snowflake she was putting her grubby little hobbit hands on.

And _No. Me. Gusta_.

—

Red waits until after dinner to sneak away from the group, needing a moment to herself.

She's not much of a people person on a _good_ day, let alone when the full moon is right on the horizon, so after a long day like today it's safe to say her patience has worn thin.

If she had any sense at all she'd go and just run it out of her system, but she wasn't...as much as she hated to say it - even in her head - she was a little nervous about doing so since it's kinda been a while.

Ever since she learned to control her wolf she was usually good about shifting periodically, knowing her temperament would get all kinds of erratic if she didn't, but hasn't been lately - not since she arrived in Arendelle. Usually after experiencing some kind of temper flare up she'd go out and shift, just to be on the safe side, but she'd been so calm there in Arendelle that it kind of wasn't necessary.

That kingdom itself was a relatively stress-free place, despite having a thoroughly stressed out queen, and since she spent most of her time with Elsa - a girl who Red was pretty sure it was

physically impossible for anyone to ever get mad at - there was no reason for her to get upset.

It wasn't until today that she was brutally reminded of what happens when she keeps her wolf caged up for too long. And needless to say she was a little wary of allowing herself to wolf out, considering just thinking about John and that dopey smile of his still really fucking provoked her.

But at the same time, deep down she knew she should probably go for a run anyways, even if it meant risking hurting the jolly green giant (who was overdue for a much deserved disfiguring anyways).

She really fucking hated the paradox that was her life.

Shift to keep the wolf in check but _don't_ shift to protect people from its sometimes homicidal tendacies.

Ugh. No wonder she was such a fucking head case.

At a loss of what to do, Red starts back toward camp.

Everyone is just as she left them, still gathered around the fire, exchanging stories and entertaining each other with other lame shit.

Rolling her eyes to herself, she walks around and picks up her cloak she had draped across a log so it could finish drying. She scrunches up the fabric in random places, feeling for any lingering dampness.

While she sits off to the side and does this, she listens to Jack - the froggy lipped one of Robin's crew - recount his experiences with magic beans and the crazy adventures they took him on.

Naturally Red assumes this to be some kind of weird drug analogy (magic beans, really?) but after listening him yammer on about beanstalks and giants and realizing he was being legitimately serious, concludes that Jack is a compulsive liar.

Or just really fucking stupid.

After all if you gotta make up stories to impress people with, _at least _make them believable. Climbing up a beanstalk to a castle in the sky, stealing from giants for your own selfish gain, and actually surviving to tell the tale?

Ha! Yeah, _right._

People _don't_ survive Giant encounters - especially those with obnoxiously disproportionate features that are just begging to be slapped right off their faces.

Turning her head, Red glances across the fire, hoping to catch the eye of one her blondes to exchange questioning looks with.

It's then, as she's scanning the group, that she realizes one blonde was missing. Her brow creasing, Red pulls back and glances around. How she didn't notice Elsa sitting away from the group before was beyond her.

Red stands without hesitation and makes her way over to her. Elsa's sitting by herself on a fallen tree trunk, her body hunched over in an uncharacteristic manner. Her chin rests against her knees while her arms are wrapped around her legs. It's times like this where she looked more the part of burdened girl than regal queen.

Red comes up behind the unsuspecting blonde, and then, unthinkingly, drapes her cloak across her shoulders.

Elsa startles a little from the sudden contact, her head whipping around. She quickly relaxes though after seeing that it was just her. And while touched by the gesture, she can't help but frown curiously.

"Thank you, but I don't..."

"I know." Red shrugs, suddenly feeling a little stupid. Why the hell did she even do that? It's not like Elsa ever gets cold.

Maybe because she just looked like she needed...warmth.

Choosing to disregard that thought, Red throws one leg over the log and sits on it sideways.

As she settles down beside her, Red hears Elsa quietly say, "It smells like you."

Red looks over in time to see Elsa subtly pull the cloak closer to her.

For some strange reason she _really_ liked the sight of Elsa wrapped in her cloak like that.

"It should." she smiles, unsure of why that was but deciding not to dwell on it. "I'm the only one who ever wears it."

She waits a moment before asking, "So what are you doing here by yourself?"

Elsa hesitates. "Being around people for extended periods of time is..."

"Draining?" Red finishes with a knowing smile. She releases a short laugh at Elsa's guilty expression. "Tell me about it."

"Not that I don't like their company." Elsa assures quickly, feeling bad about it. "I do. It's just...it gets to be too much sometimes and...what with everything that is going on...it's not the best time for me to be around others." she murmurs, glancing down pointedly at her feet.

Red follows her gaze and sees the layer of ice beginning to spread out from beneath her dress.

"So you're stressed."

And she had every right to be, given everything.

Red meets her gaze, unconcerned. "It happens." she says, shrugging slightly.

Elsa doesn't look any less assuaged.

Red sighs at this and proceeds to wrack her brain for something better - er, more comforting - to say but finds herself seriously blanking. She couldn't think of anything she hadn't already said to her.

_Way to fail me brain._

Shaking her head to herself, Red decides to change the subject, figuring the least she could do is distract Elsa enough to get her out of her own fucking head.

"Robin's totally checking you out."

Now the subject of boys is not one she'd normally bring up - for obvious reasons - but she'd just caught sight of Robin not so discreetly watching them, or _Elsa_ she should say.

Red wished she could say this was the first time she'd noticed his lingering gaze today but it wasn't.

She's not quite sure how she feels about it.

Actually she _does_ know.

She doesn't fucking like it. Not one bit.

Robin quickly looks away just as Elsa glances over her shoulder to see for herself. Red can't help but roll her eyes at his complete lack of subtly.

"Oh." is all Elsa to say about it.

Red narrows her eyes skeptically. "Oh?" she repeats, her brow quirked.

Elsa turns back and locks eyes with her, confused. "What? His attraction is purely physical."

"I know that." she scoffs, Elsa's raised brow implying she thought otherwise. "I was just...I mean...I dunno."

Of all the things they've talked about in their time knowing each other, the one subject that never really came up was guys and er, dating. And now that the moment presented itself she was kind of curious as to what Elsa thought about...well _that_.

"What do you look for in a guy?"

Red inwardly cringes at Elsa's taken aback expression. "Honestly I wouldn't know." she confesses after a moment. "I mean I have such little experience with them. The only real experience I've had with men outside the royal staff is through Anna. First with Hans, although that was very brief, and of course Kristoff."

Red lightly shakes her head at the mention of the blonde. "That kid spends way too much time engaging in pretend conversations with the local wildlife."

"Snow would like him." she laughs, but at the same time silently hoping the ice man was faring okay back in Arendelle.

Elsa smiles faintly. "Pathetic isn't it? My kid sister has more dating experience than I do."

"Not by much." Red frowns.

Elsa doesn't say anything. Red scratches the back of her neck, hesitant to ask. "Now that things have changed, like no more isolation, you don't...I mean do you ever think about finding someone? Like dating?"

Shit. Could she _be_ any less coherent?

Elsa shakes her head. "No, not really. Realistically I just don't see it happening." she says quietly, her gaze dropping to her lap again.

"Why the fuck not?" she can't help but scoff. After all who the fuck wouldn't want to be with her?

She was like ten kinds of awesome.

Elsa just shrugs. "I come with too much baggage, to put it simply."

Red frowns deeply. "That is _not_ true."

"Red, you're just saying that to be nice." Elsa sighs, lifting her gaze and raising her brow. "But you and I both know it's not true. Any person I choose to pursue, if I ever do, would not only have to be accepting of my being a queen but of my being a quite literal ice queen. And not only that but they'd have to not feel threatened by it."

"Take away the title and the castle and I'm just a girl who can't properly feel or process her own emotions without some kind of blizzard occurring." Elsa dips her gaze briefly, grimacing. "It just...I don't know...it seems like too much to ask of another person to deal with all that. I mean who wants complicated? No one."

"True," Red eventually concedes. "But when you're with the right person, they won't see as any of that as you complicating their life. It might be unfamiliar, a challenge even, but one they won't hesitate to overcome with you because your love is worth all of that and more."

Looking over and seeing Elsa just staring at her, Red shifts a little, slightly unnerved by her sudden inability to accurately read her expression.

"Then again what do I know?" she murmurs, scoffing awkwardly. "I am not the one to ask about relationships."

"And anyways I don't think I'd ever be able to abandon my people for the sake of love." Elsa continues with a light shake of her head.

Red stops and glances back at her, confused. "Who says you have to abandon them?" she frowns.

"I just can't see myself having both. Being queen and having love."

Red understood in a sense, figuring the kingdom had to come first, but not necessarily agreeing with it.

"So you're going to be alone for the rest of your life?" she questions disbelievingly.

"I've managed just fine thus far." Elsa nods but not looking at her.

"You shouldn't close yourself off like that."

"I have my sister, she's all I need."

Red shakes her head, able to clearly see right through that response. "You don't really believe that." She looks at Elsa closely, her brow raised. "You telling me that not a single part of you wants to experience love, like _romantic_ love?"

"It would be nice but if it doesn't happen, it doesn't happen." Elsa shrugs, shifting uncomfortably.

"And anyways this isn't the time for the discussion about our private lives." she shakes her head, straightening her posture suddenly and detaching herself from the subject. "There are more important matters at hand."

"Right." She'll go along with it...for now.

"So how are you doing?" Elsa broaches hesitantly after a moment. "You've been awfully quiet since..."

"I'm fine." Red answers, voice clipped. She's not the only one who can deflect conversation. "Just tired, I guess. It's been a long day." She shakes her head, not wanting to get into it.

"C'mon." She stands up and beckons Elsa to do the same. "We should get back."

Elsa slips her hand into her outstretched one compliantly and allows her to pull her upright.

When they return to the rest of the group, the others are all laughing at some embarrassing Merry Men heist gone wrong that Robin had just finished telling. Red sets herself down next to Rapunzel and Elsa joins her.

Once the amusement settles, Robin, realizing they'd rejoined the group, turns to them and nods. "So what brings you ladies to our neck of the woods anyways?" he asks curiously.

"Evil Queen." Rapunzel answers nonchalantly.

Snow's head swivels around so fast. "Excuse me?" she blinks before looking to Red specifically.

Red opens her mouth to clarify but Elsa speaks up before she can. "She kidnapped my sister." Elsa explains, redirecting everyone's attention. "After I refused to comply with her demands."

"No disrespect but why the hell would you do something like that?" Robin scoffs. "I mean I know Arendelle's kind of out of the way from the rest of us but you've had to have heard all those horror stories of what happens when people get in the way of her."

"She wanted Elsa's help in capturing Snow." Red snaps, suddenly going on the defensive because it's not like Elsa didn't have a valid reason for responding the way she did.

"She somehow got the idea that Snow might be heading north." she nods. "But Elsa of course refused to have any part of it."

Snow smiles appreciatively. "I'm sorry it cost you your sister though." she offers, her expression faltering.

"It was a no-win situation, unfortunately. But I won't let that deter me. I won't rest until I've brought Anna home." Elsa shakes her head resolutely.

"So what's your plan?" Robin wants to know.

Elsa hesitates, then exchanges a quick look with Red, unsure of how to answer that considering...

"We're still figuring that out." Red supplies smoothly enough.

Her response receives nothing but unblinking stares from the guys.

"You can't be serious." John finally says, earning a death glare from Red.

"Watch it, you giant turd."

"Do you even understand how powerful she is?" Robin asks them carefully. "She is no joke."

"Elsa is just as powerful as she is." Rapunzel promptly informs, unconcerned. "If not more so. I mean she cursed her entire kingdom to an eternal winter. Unintentionally, of course." she adds quickly, remembering that wasn't exactly a point to brag about. "It was an accident."

"Wait." The guys stop and collectively peer over at Elsa. "You have _magic?_"

"No way." Jack utters, his eyes wide and guppy lips gaping.

In that moment the so-called Merry Men turn into 'Merry Boys', eagerly moving closer and bombarding Elsa with stupid question after stupid question.

"What kind of magic?"

"Are you a shape shifter?"

"Can you make things disappear?"

"Can you blow stuff up?"

After seeing the familiar look of panic cross Elsa's features when they'd moved a little too into her personal space for her liking, Red knows she has to do something. "Hey! Knock it off." she shouts, a little more ferociously than intended. "She'll show you when she wants to. _If_ she wants to." she glares. "Now back on up afores I end you all!"

Naturally they all do as she says.

While Snow proceeds to chide them for their rude behavior, Red reverts her attention to make sure Elsa was alright. "You okay?"

Elsa nods, exhaling deeply. "Thank you."

"No problem, snowflake." she smirks. "You know I got your back."

Red holds up her hand for a fist bump, only to be meet with an adorably confused expression.

Playfully rolling her eyes, she takes Elsa's hand and makes a fist out of it herself, then lightly bumps her knuckles against her own.

"Fist bump." Red clarifies. "And now that you know the mechanics of the almighty fist bump you have officially reached a whole new level of _cool_." she smirks.

"You're never going to stop with the ice puns, are you?"

"_Do penguins fly_?"

—

Some hours later, when everyone's turned in for the night, Red finds herself sharing a tent with her two blondes.

Not that she was complaining or anything - after all how many people get to say they've slept with both a princess _and_ a queen in the same lifetime?

Smiling tiredly to herself, Red carefully shitfts her position, not wanting to wake either one of them up. She herself was super worn out but, thanks to her overactive brain, was ultimately unable to sleep. It sure as hell didn't help that her heightened senses made her hyper aware of just about every surrounding sound there was: the crickets chirping, the rustling leaves, Elsa's uneven breathing.

Red drops her head to the side, that last one just registering. "Hey. Elsa?" she lets out softly, curiously looking over at the blonde.

Elsa turns and meets her gaze. "Did I wake you?" she asks, a slightly apologetic tone to her voice.

Brow furrowed, Red shakes her head, just noticing that Elsa had shifted away a great deal from her since they'd initially laid down. "You okay?" she wonders, suddenly feeling concerned...and a little self-conscious.

Had she done something wrong?

"Not really." Elsa confesses quietly, mindful of the other blonde still sleeping soundly on Red's other side. "It's just hard to sleep knowing Anna's out there being held against her will. God only knows what that woman's done to her by now."

"Hey." Red moves and props herself up by her elbows. "We're gonna get her back." she promises resolutely, holding her gaze. "That's all that matters. Don't let any of that other crap worry you, alright? It's pointless and none of it is gonna change the outcome." she says not unkindly. "Everything is going to work out, trust me."

"I wish I had your confidence." Elsa sighs, staring back up at the ceiling.

"You do." she answers automatically. "I mean it's there. Sometimes it comes out naturally, other times it needs a little coaxing. Think of confidence as a muscle: the more you use it, the stronger it gets."

Elsa looks back at her and smiles. "It astounds me how insightful you are." she softly chuckles.

"Why? Cause I'm too pretty to be smart?" Red quirks her brow playfully, earning a light head shake in return.

Red can't help but smile a little wider when a loose strand of hair falls in front of Elsa's face. She just looked so damn cute with her tousled hair down and out of that braid.

While Elsa tucks the wayward hair behind her ear, Red indicates to the distance between them.

"So why'd you move all the way over there? Afraid I'd try to cop a feel?"

Even in this light, or lack thereof, she could clearly see Elsa's cheeks pinken.

"No," Elsa shakes her head, her smile fading. "I just...I'm not used to sleeping in such close quarters with others. Or at all really. I didn't want to accidentally hurt you."

Red sighs heavily and resists the urge to roll her eyes. "Get it through that thick blonde skull of yours, snowflake." she says, staring at her pointedly. "You are _never_ gonna hurt me."

"You don't know that."

"_I know you_." she counters gently before lying back down. "And that's reason enough for me."

Eyes closed, Red blindly pats the space next to her and beckons Elsa closer. "C'mere."

She squints one eye open, sensing the blonde's hesitance, and sure enough finds Elsa worrying her bottom lip.

Red smiles slightly. "I won't snore in your ear, if that's what you're worried about."

After a moment of silent deliberation, Elsa tentatively moves closer. Red moves her arm up and out of the way, encouraging Elsa to lean into her a little.

"Your heart is beating quite fast." Elsa realizes a moment after settling in. She lifts her head, instantly concerned. "Is this not alright?"

"I'm not exactly used to this either." Red confesses rather sheepishly, a little embarrassed that Elsa could actually hear it. "But I'm not like..." she trails off, Elsa already attempting to move away from her.

"Just because I'm not used to it doesn't mean I don't like it." she finally manages out, shifting on her side and placing a hand on her. "Now turn around."

Elsa frowns at the odd request but acquiesces. "Why?"

"It is too damn early for all this talk and I wanna get my zzzs on now thank you very much." Red replies, draping a casual arm over her.

Elsa peers over her shoulder. "So when you said you have my back you meant that literally."

"Oh shut up." she chuckles, closing her eyes and shifting a little closer. "I am just trying to get comfortable."

"This isn't a good idea though." she hears Elsa say. "You'll get pneumonia staying beside me like this all night or worse frostbite."

Red just snorts. "The chances of you giving me frostbite are about the same as me giving you heatstroke. Now relax and go to sleep, otherwise I'll make you sleep outside."

"Shouldn't the one of us that's the _dog_ be the one to sleep outside?"

"You're lucky I'm tired, snowflake, otherwise your sass would not go unpunished."

Receiving no response in return, Red assumes Elsa to have fallen asleep.

Which was _just_ fine with her.

Red exhales contently and allows her eyes to flutter close.

"Red?" she hears Elsa whisper just as she was drifting off to sleep.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you. For coming with me. It means a lot."

"No problem, snowflake." she murmurs with a shake of her head.

Rapunzel clears her throat suddenly, apparently not as deep asleep as she had led them to believe.

"Thank you as well, Rapunzel." Elsa adds, the smile evident in her tone.

"Welcome." Rapunzel sighs sleepily. "And scoot over Red."

"Ay man." Red grumbles, feeling the blonde push her from behind and into Elsa. "Watch it, Goldilocks."

"What? I need my space."

_Since when?_, Red can't help but scoff. If she didn't know any better, girlie was just trying to push her and Elsa closer together.

Which she kind of succeeded in doing...

Whatever.

Disregarding the thought, Red rests her chin back against Elsa's shoulder and allows her uniquely comforting scent to fill senses until she was no longer conscious of anything else.

—

When morning rolls around, and the sun along with it, Red shifts around groggily, feeling her body awaken before the rest of her had any say in the matter.

Her eyes squint open for a second, then close again, unwilling to wake up just yet. It was too fucking early.

With Elsa's back still curled into her front, Red tilts her head and buries her face in the blonde's hair to block out the light.

_At least she's stopped moving around_, she vaguely thinks.

Elsa, as she just learned last night, was not the best sleeper. She was a fidgeter - if that was even a word - and had woken her up a handful of times. But admittedly it wasn't that bad; every time she would start flinching in her sleep Red would just bring her closer and mumble sleepy reassurances in her ear. That would calm her down for a while.

Red's just grateful Elsa wasn't like a sleep kicker.

Currently in a half-awake half-asleep state, Red's able to pick up on the small sigh that escapes said snowflake in that moment.

Elsa shifts back slightly, prompting Red to lift her face from the crook of her neck. "Good morning." she says with a soft smile.

Her voice at this hour, all thick and raspy from sleep, was like one of the best sounds Red's ever heard in her life.

"Morning." she mumbles back in greeting.

Elsa turns onto her side to face her. "Sleep well?"

"You fidget."

Her smile fades. "I do?"

Red nods simply. "Bad dreams?" she guesses, stifling a yawn.

Elsa doesn't answer, but Red could tell by the way she looked away that she was more or less right. "We should probably get up." Elsa says, moving her upper body upright.

"Too early for that." Red disagrees, rolling onto her stomach. "Need more sleep."

"I always was an early riser." Elsa sighs, glancing around.

"Yeah well I'm not."

Elsa looks back at her, a doubtful smile playing across her lips. "I don't believe that. You were raised on a farm, weren't you?"

"Not by choice." she scoffs, her voice muffled.

Elsa just shakes her head. "I'll let you sleep in then." she chuckles, moving to stand up.

Red waits until she leaves the tent before rolling onto her back and stretching out her limbs.

That's when Rapunzel suddenly reaches out and flicks her nose.

"Ow!" Red flinches away, caught off-guard. "What the hell, Rapunzel?"

"You guys talk too much." she grumbles, her brow furrowed tiredly.

"Oh." Red's expression falters. "My bad, Goldilocks."

Rapunzel just playfully narrows her eyes. "You're lucky you two are ridiculously cute."

—

Shortly thereafter, Red and Rapunzel grudgingly get up for breakfast, hearing the others already out and about.

Not a morning person in the slightest, Red settles down by herself after grabbing some breakfast. She's busy enjoying her food in silence when Snow comes over.

"May I join you?"

"Sure." she shrugs, currently chewing around a mouthful of egg.

"So how are you?" Snow questions as she sits down next to her. "Ready for tonight?"

Red rolls her eyes briefly. Snow was never one for small talk - always got straight to the point. A trait she normally liked but right now found mildly annoying.

"It's just the full moon, Snow. Not like it's my first one. I'll be fine." After swallowing her mouthful, she glances back at the short brunette. "What your boyfriend ask you to come over here and check to make sure?"

"Of course not." Snow sighs. "And John and I are just friends thank you very much."

"It's not like he has anything to worry anyways. We only agreed to stay the night, remember? We're leaving as we're done with breakfast."

"To retrieve Elsa's sister from my step-mother."

Noticing the familiar look on Snow's face - the one she usually sports when she's holding something back - Red questions. "What?"

"Nothing." Snow says quickly, shaking her head.

Red shoots her a knowing look.

"It's just you have no plan." Snow says finally.

Red quirks her brow. "And?"

"And?" Snow frowns questioningly. "You have no plan." she reiterates carefully. "What do you expect to happen when we arrive at her castle?"

"Worried for me, Berry?" Red smirks.

Snow nods seriously. "Yes. Yes, I am Red. For all of you. I know better than anyone how vile that woman is. I don't want to see you and your friends get hurt or worse simply because your lack of sense."

"We're working on it." Red sighs. "So relax. We still have time to figure one out. It's gonna take us a while to get to her kingdom anyways."

"Until you do I think you should stay with us." Snow states, setting down her plate beside her.

Red can't help but raise her brow. "You're serious?"

"Haven't you ever heard the saying 'two heads are better than one'?" Red nods, albeit it warily. "Well a dozen heads are better than three. If you stay with us a little longer maybe the Merry Men and I can help you formulate an adequate plan of action. Robin is quite the strategist, you know."

Red purses her lips together unsurely. "I don't know. Elsa seems dead set on picking up where we left off as soon as possible. She really doesn't feel like there's time to waste."

"But this wouldn't be wasting time." Snow insists. "And anyways don't you think it would wise to wait to continue on your travels until _after_ the full moon's passed? I mean out here you won't be seen. If you continue further into the kingdom, and make camp closer to any of the villages, you may risk a a stray hunter catching sight of you at night...putting not only your life in danger but others as well. Not that I'm saying you're a menace to society or anything." she adds quickly, eyes wide. "Because you're not."

Red resists the urge to roll her eyes. "Snow?"

"Hmm?"

"I thought you were working on keeping your blabbering down to a minimum."

"I was...around you. Others happen to find it endearing I'll have you know." she says, jutting her chin up proudly.

"Endearing?" Red snorts disbelieving. "What, did the Jolly Green Giant say that?"

"_John_." Snow huffs, exasperated. "And he might have said something along those lines. Not that it's any of your business."

She rolls her eyes that. "So you're boning him now?"

"Red!" Snow splutters, aghast, her cheeks quickly coloring. "Really."

"Or is it the little archer man you've got your eye on?" she smirks, raising a knowing brow.

"Robin is a notorious womanizer." Snow sniffs, her chin upturned.

"But you're still attracted to him." That much was clear by the way they constantly argued.

"Maybe. On some level." Snow concedes, subtly glancing over at Robin, who at the moment was talking to Elsa and (of course) showing off his bow. Her smile deflates at the sight.

"But who could compete with that?" she sighs dismally.

Red follows her gaze and rolls her eyes again. "Chillout, Berry. Elsa's about as interested in him as I am. Reel in the green-eyed leprechaun."

"Oh." Snow blinks her surprise. "So she's..."

"What? No!" Red says quickly, realizing her implication. "I mean, I don't know. I just meant she's not into Robin like that. Like you said he's a total player. He's hit on all us girls already, remember?"

"You like her." Snow realizes, her eyes all but lighting up like a firefly's ass.

"And?"

"You're not denying it." Snow raises her brow, shocked.

"Of course I like her." Red scowls. "She's my friend. You typically like the people you consider friends."

Snow's the one who rolls her eyes that time. "What I meant by you like her, Red, is that you think she's cute."

"Kinda. Maybe." she shrugs.

"Kind of?" Snow laughs, looking back at her skeptically.

"A little. Sort of. When I squint mostly."

Snow just shakes her head. "So have you talked it?" she inquires quite eagerly.

Red shifts away uncomfortably. Snow never did understand the concept of personal space. "About what?"

"Your feelings for her. Her feelings for you. They're obviously there."

"Yeah, _okay_." Red shakes her head at the very idea.

"I'm serious." Snow insists, her voice rising shrilly, forcing Red to shush her. "Your body language alone totally gives it away now that I think about it."

"What the hell are you smoking, Berry?"

"You lean into each other when you're standing together. And even when you're not beside each other you seem to naturally gravitate toward the other's side anyways."

That's ridiculous. "We do not."

"Do so."

Red just rolls her eyes.

"She likes you too, you know." Snow nods in affirmation. "She probably doesn't realize it. Or maybe she does, I don't know. But there is definitely something more there. She's much more at ease by your side. And you hers. It's quite endearing how adorning you look at one another and yet how clueless you are to each other's attention. Like now for instance. She's had to have glanced over here three times in the last minute alone and you couldn't be more oblivious to it."

"What?" Red whips her head around so fast her neck cracks.

To her dismay, Elsa wasn't looking at her at the moment, Robin being in the middle of showing her how to properly shoot an arrow.

Red stands without thinking. "If you'll excuse me."

"Reel in the green-eyed leprechaun, Red!" Snow calls after her, barely able to stifle her laughter. "Or green-eyed _wolf _in your case!"

"Bite me, hobbit!"

—

Later that day finds Red leaning against a tree with her arms folded across her chest. As much as she disliked it, Elsa seemed to be warming up to Robin and company. Amazingly enough, after a hell of a lot of begging, they actually managed to coax Elsa into showing them her magic.

As expected, they were all in awe, and while Elsa was tentative at first, it was just starting to show how much she enjoyed being able to do her magic and make them happy.

The sight was utterly adorable if Red was being honest, but she would be enjoying it a lot more if Elsa didn't have all the guys fawning over her - er, her _magic_.

"Quit sulking, Red."

Red looks back up at the blonde hanging upside down from a branch of the tree she'd been swinging around in.

"I'm not sulking."

Rapunzel just snorts. "Could've fooled me. You're just crabby because the boys are hogging all of Elsa's attention."

"Am not." Red scoffs petulantly.

"Uh-huh."

"She is quite impressive." Snow says, referring to Elsa as she makes her way over to Red and Rapunzel.

"You again." Red grimaces, earning herself a smack in the arm from Rapunzel.

"Don't pay her any attention, Snow. She's just in one of her wolf moods."

Snow tilts her head to the side, amused by the sight of Rapunzel's monkey impression. "How's it hanging?"

"Just fine." Rapunzel chuckles. "Although I think all the blood in my body's rushed to my head."

While Rapunzel swings back around so to sit upright on a branch, Snow watches Red watch Elsa.

"Wolves mate for life, you know." she casually brings up, smiling to herself.

Red looks over at her and rolls her eyes, unamused. "I'm a fucking _werewolf_, Berry. There's a difference."

"Is there?" Snow smiles disbelieving. "The way you stare at her is unlike anything I've ever seen."

"That's what I've been telling her!" Rapunzel exclaims, exasperated, nearly falling off her perch in the process.

"We're a lot alike." Red sighs, choosing to ignore her blonde friend. "That's all there is to it."

"She is so hopelessly in denial." Rapunzel sighs, lightly shaking her head.

Snow raises her brow at Red. "So...if that's all there is to it you wouldn't mind if I..."

"If you..." Her brow furrows, not understanding. That is until she notices the way Snow tilts her head in contemplation.

Red snorts, a small smile on her face. "Berry, you and I both know you don't roll _that_ way."

She rolls her eyes because yeah, she'd almost forgotten how all kinds of ridiculous Snow could be.

"You never know, I could!" Snow cries out indignantly. "And if I were it certainly wouldn't be hard to roll Elsa's way, as it were. I mean she's just about the most beautiful girl I've ever seen..."

"Snow."

"What?"

"I know what you're trying to do." Red sighs, smiling helplessly. "You're trying to make me jealous."

Snow's whole body deflates. "Is it not working?"

"Considering you're straighter than a beanpole and about as threatening as a baby deer with a gimp leg, I'd have to say no."

Snow folds her arms across her chest. "Not that it matters. I was simply trying to prove a point - which I just as easily make using that incident with Robin earlier as an example."

Red just rolls her eyes. "That was no big deal."

"You yelled at him for no reason other than him trying to teach Elsa how to use a bow and threatened to shove one of his arrows up where the sun doesn't shine!"

"He had his grisly paws all over her!" Red exclaims. "I wasn't about to let him get away with it!"

Snow turns away with a shake of her head. Her gaze finds Rapunzel who just shrugs. "She's ridiculous, I know."

"_Ridiculous_ is a complete understatement." Snow turns back to her. "He wasn't even touching her, Red."

"Yeah, well...he was _thinking_ about it."

"If your reaction is not proof enough that you have deeper feelings beyond friendship for Elsa then I don't know what is." Snow sighs.

"With everything that's going on, now is just not the time to pursue that." Red huffs, knowing she's had this conversation before with Rapunzel. "Even if I wanted to - _which I don't_."

Her scowl deepens when Snow and Rapunzel exchange knowing glances.

"But to keep your feelings inside is such a waste, Red."

"I don't even know what those feelings are!" she exclaims, growing frustrated. "Hell I don't even know if she..."

"If she likes girls?" Snow finishes, her brow furrowed. "Who knows. But one thing is certain - she likes _you_. And if you have any doubts why not just ask her?"

Red's gaze fits to the sky. "You don't just walk up and someone and ask them what their sexuality entails, Snow."

Especially Elsa.

"Then I'll do it for you." Snow says simply enough. "I don't mind."

"Don't you fucking dare, hobbit." she warns, absolutely horrified because yeah, she definitely wouldn't put it past her.

"Fine. I won't." Snow holds up her hands appeasingly. "I just hope for both your sakes you reconsider. Life is too short to have things go left unsaid. I would know."

Red throws her head back in a silent groan. "You aren't gonna play the 'dead parent' card again, are you?"

Snow glares at her and huffs. "I am merely speaking from my own personal experience."

"So yeah you are."

Snow swats at her arm, unamused. "Jerk."

"Be nice, Red." Rapunzel agrees, reaching down and lightly bopping the top of her head.

Red shifts away from them both, swatting away at the air. "And that's my cue to exit this conversation. I don't do abuse."

Snow rolls her eyes. "You should talk to her, Red. Every day you wait is another day you won't get back." she says knowingly.

"God, you are nothing but a gnome full of stupid sayings." she says, groaning. "Do us all a favor and focus on your own love life and back off of mine."

Snow jumps up triumphantly. "So you admit there's one to back off!"

"Walking away now!"

—

"Alright, Red."

Red cracks her neck and rotates her shoulders. "It's almost time." Looking out at the setting sun, she nods and then reverts back to her pacing.

"Nothing bad is going to happen." she tells herself quietly, shaking her head. "You are not going to hurt anyone. You are a good person...who just happens to turn into a wolf from time to time. You're not like a psychopath. A psycho-wolf. You are Red and you have control."

Taking a deep fortifying breath, Red shuts her eyes in attempt to better focus herself. "You have nothing to worry about. Just relax and breathe. The full moon is not a big deal anymore. You're just a little nervous is all. You have control. Just remember that. You have control. Also, you are awesome as fuck. You can do this."

"Red?"

She all but jumps into the trees at the sudden voice. She turns around instantly, heart pounding, only to step back and relax when she sees it was just Elsa.

"Hey." She swallows hard at a sudden thought. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long." Elsa assures, tentatively moving closer. "What are you doing?" she asks curiously. "Giving yourself a pep talk?"

"Make fun of me all you want." Red sighs, knowing the sight had to have been funny - her talking to herself and all.

"I wasn't." Elsa frowns.

Red could tell by her expression that teasing her truly was the last thing on her mind, which put her significantly more at ease.

"I just...I dunno... wanted to make sure nothing bad happens when I'm all furred out. You know, reassure myself."

Elsa nods in understanding. "You're going to be fine." she says, gazing up at her softly.

Red smiles faintly in return. "It's not me I'm worried about."

"Worrying is pointless, remember?" she gently reminds, using Red's own words.

"Yeah, I know." she sighs, turning away with a slight grimace. She looks back out at the deep orange sky. "It's getting late."

She wanted to get a good distance away from the group before she shifted just as a precaution. She didn't want to risk her wolf finding its way back and doing something stupid.

Elsa follows her gaze and nods. "Do you need me to do anything?"

Red shakes her head, only to add. "But just in case I don't stay away from the camp and I'm in any way hostile just...don't be afraid to use your powers on me."

Elsa's eyes widen, taken aback. "What?" she practically chokes.

"I just want you to protect yourself and the others." Red nods. "Just do what you have to, if necessary."

"I won't have to." Elsa immediately denies. "But if it makes you feel better," she continues, regaining some of her composure. "I will."

Elsa tentatively reaches out and touches her wrist, as if to back up her promise with further reassurance.

Red smiles appreciatively at the gesture, knowing initiating contact wasn't Elsa's thing. But she was doing it more often now, Red's noticed, which was a really good thing.

And she's not just saying that because she kind of really likes it, thank you very much.

"A hug would make me feel a hella lot better." she slips in there casually, deciding to test her luck. "Just saying."

"Are you sure?" Elsa questions, smiling uncertainly. "I'm not a very good hugger."

"That's okay." she nods, opening her arms with a smile. "I'm good enough for the both of us."

Though still obviously hesitant Elsa steps into her embrace anyways. "Be careful." she whispers into her ear before chuckling, "And try not to terrorize the local wildlife too much."

Red playfully rolls her eyes in a silent groan. "Ugh. You sound like Snow."

"So she cares about animals, is that so bad?"

"It is when she's constantly telling me not to eat them. Which just makes me want to eat them _even more_."

"Well just stay away from the rabbits. They're the cutest."

"They're also the tastiest." Red licks her lips for emphasis, earning herself a light smack in the arm.

"That's terrible!" Elsa cries out laughingly.

Red backs away, in the back of her mind knowing she had to get going, and shrugs.

"You are _so_ not one to talk, snowflake. Your diet practically consists solely of bacon. Yeah, uh-huh." she chuckles, nodding at Elsa's guilty expression.

"You just think about all those poor little piggies you've eaten over the years before coming down on me for eating rabbits."

—

It doesn't matter if you're coming off a night of heavy drinking or wolfing out - mornings afters suck.

Hell mornings in general suck ass.

Sighing, Red grudgingly sits up from her sleeping position on the ground. After taking a bleary-eyed glance around the area, she lowers her hands to the ground to brace herself, preparing to push herself to her feet. She releases a low moan as her body straightens, her cramped muscles now aching from the movement.

Her eyes screw shut as she stretches out her back and limbs. She hums pleasantly when she rolls her neck and it makes a gratifying popping noise.

Once her muscles were nice and loose, Red takes a glance down at herself. No traces of blood, thank god. Plenty of dirt and grime, but no blood. So it's pretty safe to say she didn't accidentally make a meal out of anyone last night.

That's good.

Yawning, she turns her head, blinking wearily against the haze of sleep that still lingered over her. Instinctively her nose begins to sniff the air. She picks up on the charred remnants of last night's fire almost instantly, leading her believe she wasn't too far from camp.

Red heads on over and begins her trek back toward camp. Meanwhile she keeps an eye out for her clothes.

She used to be really self conscious of the whole after full moon nudity and would scramble to find her clothes but it didn't really bother her anymore.

Besides like she really gave a damn whether or not the woodland critters got an eyeful.

"Red? Red!"

Vaguely she hears her name being called in the distance, but her mind is too preoccupied with finding her clothes to fully process what it meant. She's still really groggy and usually can only focus on one thing at a time.

It isn't hard to find her clothes - the red is pretty easy to spot out here in all the greenery. She swipes them off a rock she now remembered was where she'd taken them off.

"Red?"

_Elsa_, Red thinks, her friend's voice better registering.

"Red?" Elsa tries again, her voice closer now. There's a bit of rustling and Red turns around in time to see the blonde emerge from the brush.

"Red, are you - _oh_."

Confused, Red stops and stares at the blonde openingly gaping at her.

It takes her a good minute before she can compute the reason behind it.

And when she does...

_Holy Shit._

Red's pretty sure her pupils just tripled their size.

_I am butt ass naked. _

Her and Elsa seem to realize this in the same instance because they whip around at relatively the same time.

"Uh...hey, snowflake." Red says awkwardly, scrambling to put on her clothes. All while silently chanting, _That did not just happen. That did not just happen._

Fuck _that _just happened.

"I-I am so sorry!" she hears Elsa stammer. "I didn't know you'd be here, and um...like that...I would have knocked—"

"Knocked?" Her brow furrows in amusement. "Snowflake, we're outside. There are no doors."

Red could practically hear her scowl. "You know what I meant." Elsa says quickly, embarrassed. "And why are on earth are you naked?"

"I _literally_ just woke up! Cut me some slack, would ya?"

"Are you decent yet?" Elsa sighs impatiently.

"I'm never decent." she smirks, easily able to picture the blonde rolling her eyes at her. "Relax, snowflake." she chuckles, finally turning around. "I'm good now."

Elsa does the same after peering over her shoulder to make sure.

"So how was it?" she asks tentatively, moving closer as Red settles down on a log.

While Red tugs on her boots, Elsa takes it upon herself to pick out the leaves and twigs from her hair.

"Fine, I guess." she shrugs, making a face when Elsa pulls out a twig that had some of her hair still tangled in it. "I never really remember my time as a wolf."

"Oh." Elsa stops for a moment. "So you don't remember..."

Red jumps up and away from her so fast. "What'd I do?" she demands, utterly panicked.

Elsa's eyes widen at her stricken expression. "Oh no. No, it's okay." she assures quickly, waving her hands frantically. "You didn't. Don't worry. I just meant you found me last night."

"_What?_"

Not the fucking words she wants to hear!

"What happened?" she demands urgently, her eyes already scanning for any sign of injury. "Tell me I didn't—"

"You didn't do anything bad." Elsa maintains, forcing her to meet her gaze. "I couldn't sleep last night and I was sitting out by the river and you just crossed my path. You didn't try to hurt me or anything, I promise."

Though relieved, Red's still left with that sinking feeling, knowing the other shoe had to drop some time. "But you kept your distance, right?"

"I didn't run away from you but I didn't necessarily encourage you to come closer either. Like I said you just came to me...and you brought me a rabbit."

Red has to do a double take. "Excuse me?"

"Well your wolf did." Elsa amends, smiling slightly. "Thankfully it was still alive, the rabbit I mean."

Red just shakes her head, wishing she could actually remember all this.

She brought her a rabbit.

...seriously?

Who even does that?

_I do, apparently_.

"What happened after that?" she asks in spite of her better judgment.

"You minded your own business, sniffing the grass, while I sat for a while wondering what I was going to do with that poor rabbit." Elsa answers honestly.

Red smirks knowingly. "You made rabbit stew, didn't you?"

"Of course not." Elsa says, appalled. "I released him back to the forest."

"I would've." she shrugs, meanwhile picking what tasted like squirrel meat remnants out of her teeth. "Was he fat?"

She could just picture a rabbit all big and plump, just asking to be cooked.

Her face flares up in embarrassment when her stomach chooses in that moment to emit a monstrous dying whale sound.

"Someone's hungry." Elsa comments, laughing lightly. "We should probably get you some food."

Not one to disagree, Red turns and swipes up her cloak before following her lead.

"You know when I was around your wolf I surprised to find that you were actually quite nonthreatening." Elsa casually brings up as they walk back toward to camp.

"Maybe around you." she frowns, feeling quite indignant. "Make no mistake I am badass to the bone."

"Mmm-hmm."

Scowling at the girl's teasing smile, Red turns away in a huff and promptly starts to walk ahead of her.

She does this in such a hurry that she doesn't get more than a few paces before tripping over an above ground root.

"Are you alright?" Elsa inquires, after she successfully spins herself out of falling flat on her face.

_Thank God_ she has fast reflexes.

"I totally meant to do that."

Elsa just raises her brow.

"Shut up, snowflake."

"I didn't say anything." Elsa says innocently.

Red's eyes narrow.

"Yeah but you were thinking it."

Elsa doesn't say anything to the contrary, just smiles and shrugs.

—

Red's halfway finished with her breakfast when Robin and a few of the guys return from gathering firewood.

Sitting beside Elsa, who was currently braiding Rapunzel's hair, and Snow, Red watches as Robin unceremoniously dumps the logs onto the firepit in front of them. Afterward he brushes his hands clean and looks over at Snow expectantly. "So did you tell them yet?"

"No, Robin. I have not." Snow replies, shooting him a not so subtle look.

"Tell us what?" Red wants to know, her gaze shifting between them both warily.

"Well the boys and I have been talking..."

"No good can come out of that." Red murmurs, just as John and Jack come over to see what was up.

Snow ignores that remark and presses on. "We were thinking we join you to confront my step-mother."

"Excuse me?"

"Why on earth would you do that?" Elsa frowns, just as confused. The only reason they were going to her was because of Anna - no one willingly sought out her if they could avoid it.

"Yeah or have you forgotten the lady wants to _kill_ you, Snow?"

"Well aware of that, Red." Snow sighs. "But last night we realized something. Elsa has magic."

"No shit." Red scoffs, not liking how much the hobbit's eyes had lit up just then.

"_Powerful_ magic." Robin emphasizes with a nod.

"I wouldn't say 'powerful'." Elsa murmurs, already uncomfortable with where this conversation was heading.

"You froze your entire kingdom." Jack points out like it's the most amazing thing ever. "If that's not considered powerful then I don't know what is."

"Would someone mind explaining what the fuck you're getting at?" Red snaps, growing frustrated.

Robin rolls his eyes before gesturing toward Elsa. "What we're saying is that Elsa here can defeat her."

"Who, the Evil Queen?"

"You've got the mojo to take her out." Robin confirms. "And then once you do, Snow can reclaim her throne. It's perfect."

"It's not that simple." Red starts to argue, after seeing brief the look of panic cross her snowflake's face. "The Evil Queen wields dark magic—"

"And all I can do is freeze things and make it snow." Elsa finishes, discomfited.

Robin raises his shoulders, no seeing the problem. "So freeze her. Freeze her so fast she won't be able to conjure so much as a fucking spark."

"How has no one known about you before?" he suddenly questions, his eyes narrowing inquisitively. "You could've solved our problem ages ago."

"I'm sorry but my main concern is my sister and bringing her home safely." Elsa says as calmly and politely as she can. "Not kill the Evil Queen."

"But do you really think she's just gonna let you take your sister back without so much of a fight?" John questions skeptically.

"You girls still don't even have a plan." Robin nods. "You can't just expect to walk up to the Queen and bat your pretty eyelashes and expect her to hand your sister over just like that."

"We'll go with you, be like your cavalry." Jack chimes in.

Elsa shakes her head as she stands up. "We are already risking enough as it is. I can't allow any of you to do the same."

"The Evil Queen was our problem long before she was yours." Robin reminds, moving to step forward - only to be stopped by Red.

"Look you can help us out and we can help you out. You'll get your sister, Snow will get her kingdom and everyone in the realm will be free from that damn wicked witch once and for all. It's a win-win for everyone. How can you not be for it?"

While Elsa struggles with an answer, Robin offers, "If it's the killing that's got you spooked, you only need to incapacitate her. I am more than okay with delivering the final blow. Or arrow, I should say." he says, smirking at his own joke.

Meanwhile Elsa looks like she's gonna be sick. "Excuse me."

Red doesn't hesitate to go after her.

"Hey, Elsa. Wait up." Back by the river, Red reaches out and gently pulls her arm back before she can get any further. "Where the hell do you think you're going, snowflake?"

"I think...I need to go." Elsa says more to herself than to Red. "I can't be here anymore. I-I've wasted so much time already—_what was I thinking?_"

"Woah, hey. Snowflake, calm down." she attempts to soothe, trying to get the blonde to meet her gaze. "We're gonna get her back."

"No, no this time I'm going to lose her." Elsa says, her head shaking frantically. "For good. I can feel it. And that can't happen. It just can't."

Red watches helplessly as Elsa begins to pace, still trying to get a word in. "Elsa—"

"They want me to be t-their weapon against the Evil Queen but I can't. I'm not...I don't. I mean I couldn't harm Hans even after everything he did to me and my sister. I couldn't even punch him in the face which is more than I can say about Anna."

"Elsa _no one _is saying you have to do anything." she says firmly, walking right up to her and touching her arms. "It is entirely up to you. Don't let the guys get in your head. We can come up with something else - another way."

"But what if there is no other way?" Elsa pushes her hair back stressfully. "They're right. The Evil Queen is not one that can be dealt with diplomatically. I'm going to have to use force if I want to get my sister back." she croaks, absolutely terrified at the idea.

Something which Red understood. After all Elsa's spent her entire life trying to keep herself from accidentally hurting people and trying to prove she was not the monster people thought she was.

Purposefully harming another person would be playing right into that preconception.

"Snowflake, take it easy." she tries again, Elsa's heart rate accelerating beyond what was healthy.

But Elsa wasn't listening.

"And they want to tag along? Are they insane? What if they get hurt? Or worse? Then it'll be my fault! I can't...I can't have that on my conscious. I just can't - it'll be too much..." Her voice was coming in short, gasp-like breaths, signifying that she was not letting nearly enough air out.

"Elsa you _need _to slow your breathing, okay?" Red insists, her voice wavering a bit, but for the most part, calm. "Look, look at me. Focus on steadying your breath."

"I can't." she whispers, clenching her eyes shut to keep the overwhelming tears at bay.

Knowing she had to do something, and fast, before Elsa passed out on her, Red acts purely on instinct.

And kisses her.

It's a simple press of the lips but one that lingers for a couple seconds.

Red pulls away first, her hands still cupping Elsa's face. "It helps to hold your breath." she explains, lifting her gaze to meet the blonde's wide eyes.

Elsa just stares at her.

Realizing she had probably just overstepped her boundaries _big time_, Red nonetheless tries to make light of it. "What? You think you're the only one who's ever had a panic attack? I change into a wolf, remember?"

She doesn't do too good a job though.

"I can't."

Red frowns, not understanding what Elsa meant by that. "Huh? Can't what?"

Next thing she knows the snowflake is scrambling to get herself from her. "I can't." she says again, pale as ever.

"Can't?" Red repeats, hoping to get a little clarification.

"I can't be that." Elsa says fearfully, her voice rushed and eyes brimming. "There's too much wrong with me already."

Red steps forward, comprehending now but still a little insulted. If Elsa thought there was something wrong with _that_, then did she thing something was wrong with her?

Red knows she's different but nothing was _wrong_ with her, she knew that much.

"Elsa, there is nothing is wrong with you." she says, maybe a little more aggressively than intended.

"_Everything's_ wrong with me." Elsa shakes her head of Red's assurances.

"This doesn't work for me. I need to be on my own." she stammers, continuing to distance herself. "I'm good on my own."

"Elsa wait. I'm sorry!" Red tries to stop her but the blonde just takes off, disappearing into the trees. "I was just trying...to help."

_Fuck._

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

Red kicks at the air in frustration before hurrying back to camp. When she reaches the others, she grabs a hold of Rapunzel wordlessly and drags her away from group.

"Hey! Red!" Rapunzel tugs herself free after a few paces. "What the heck? What's going on?"

Rapunzel stops and looks around, realizing she was oddly devoid of her snowflake. "Where's Elsa?"

"Blondie I fucked up."

Rapunzel frowns in confusion. "What, how? I mean, what are you talking about?"

"Elsa." Red all but groans. "I —she was giving herself another panic attack to calm her down I stupidly thought kissing her would help. I mean it _did_ but—"

"Wait, you guys kissed?" Rapunzel gasps, honing in on the so-called vital piece of information.

Red grimaces, then nods. "It was awful." she confirms. "I mean not the kiss itself, that was...soft. I just - it shouldn't have happened."

"Did she at least kiss back?"

Red just shakes her head. "It was a quick kiss and she'd kinda gone into shock."

"What happened after?"

"She started freaking out. Said that _she couldn't_ \- that there was too much wrong with her already."

"Oh."

"Yeah, _oh_." Red covers her face and groans into her hands. "Fuck. I can't believe I did that! As if she wasn't barely keeping it together enough as it was. First Robin and the guys force that stupid plan on her, then I have to go and kiss her. Not to mention that incident this morning when she fucking saw me naked..."

"_What?_" Rapunzel exclaims, incredulous. "Red, you flashed her?"

"Of course not!" she scowls, cheeks burning. "It was an accident. I had just woken up and hadn't found my clothes yet and she'd been looking for me. And she uh...found me alright."

Rapunzel purses her lips. "Well how did she react? Did she at least look...interested?"

"She looked horrified."

"Maybe it was a good horror." Rapunzel suggests, always the optimist. "Like her ovaries just exploded kind of a deal."

"I highly doubt it, Goldilocks."

"So what'd she do?"

"Blush, then babble. I may have traumatized her."

_And now I've just traumatized her again_, Red thinks dismally.

_Good going, Red. _

_You're doing a bang up job with this friend thing._

"You need to go talk to her."

Red looks back at Rapunzel and scoffs. "I'm pretty sure the last thing she wants is to talk to me, Blondie. She might not ever speak to me after this."

"Look just because we don't like talking about something doesn't mean we should ignore it - _you_ taught me that. Elsa's lived most of her life without human contact and has a messed up view of herself because of it. She probably has all these ideas of what a person should be and compares them to all the things she's not. You need to remind her that being different is not synonymous with being _wrong_."

Red can't help but quirk her brow. "Synonymous?"

Not the kind of word usually found in Rapunzel's vocabulary.

"I read it in a book once." she shrugs. "And I've been waiting to use it."

"Maybe you should be the one to talk to her." Red says after a beat of silence. "You seem to know more what to say than I do."

Rapunzel shakes her head. "No, she needs to hear it from you."

"This wouldn't happen to do anything with the fact you want us together, would it, Rapunzel?" Red drawls out warily.

"I am just a friend simply trying to help her two other friends." she says innocently. "And if said two friends happen to get closer and exchange a few sweet lady kisses in the process, then so be it."

"Now, c'mon. Go." she shoos, all but pushing Red to action. "Make sure she's alright."

—

Fortunately her being a werewolf makes it relatively easy to track a person down. Even if they don't want to be found.

Red finds Elsa not too far from the river, sitting at the base of a tree, her knees pulled up to her chest, her head buried in her hands.

Red moves slowly, admittedly nervous. "Snowflake." she says once she's close enough for her to hear.

Elsa startles and then whips around, standing quickly. "Red."

Frowning deeply, she holds up her hands. "Relax, Elsa. I'm not gonna hurt you. Or kiss you again." she mutters.

Elsa's expression turns apologetic.

"Look, Elsa." she starts.

"Red, we don't need to talk about it." she interjects at the same time. "Really. It's already forgotten."

Not believing her in the slightest, Red presses on. "I'm sorry, alright? I was just trying to help."

"Red, it's okay."

Red shakes her head, wanting to get out what she came here to say, and releases a fortifying breath. "Look I know running away is like your thing but it's not mine. I face my problems, even if I don't want to and deal with it. Of course that's not to say you're a problem." she adds, slightly cringing when she realized how bad that had sounded.

Elsa nods in mild comprehension but lets her continue.

"Elsa." Red steps closer, relieved this time she didn't try and back away. "Look at me."

Snowflake complies after a moment's hesitation.

"There is nothing - _not a damn thing_ wrong with you, okay? Everything that you are makes you special, not wrong."

Elsa gives her a faint smile and nod but Red could tell she didn't truly believe it.

"I wanna hear you say it, snowflake." she murmurs, making the girl's smile falter.

"C'mon," Red gently encourages when she drops her gaze.

"Nothing is wrong with me."

Red lightly scoffs at that feeble attempt. "Like you mean it."

"Nothing is wrong with me." Elsa tries again.

It wasn't much better but she figured it was the best gonna get out of her for now.

After a moment Red beckons her forward, arms outstretched. "C'mere."

Elsa tentatively walks into her embrace. Red wraps her arms around her protectively and drops her chin onto her shoulder. "You are perfect in like the most imperfectly perfect way. If that makes any sense." she says, breathing a small unsure chuckle.

"Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." she says to Elsa, pulling back a little so she can say it directly to her face. "Or make you think otherwise. Because you are kind, compassionate, and just an overall awesome person."

Elsa doesn't say anything, but the hug she surprises her with more than conveys all her thanks. Red squeezes her tightly, then chuckles to herself when it became apparent that Elsa wasn't planning on letting go right away.

Not that she was complaining. She was perfectly content with holding the snowflake and prolonging the moment for as long as she could.

Silence settles in for a few moments until Elsa decides to speak up again. "I'm sorry for freaking out earlier." she says, finally pulling away. "Both times."

Red can't suppress the urge to roll her eyes. "You're always apologizing." she sighs before reaching out and brushing a tear away. "Knock it off, snowflake. It's unnecessary."

"But I am sorry for accidentally flaunting my lady loveliness in all its glory at you." Red adds in earnest. "Also kissing you. That wasn't cool."

"But it wasn't bad either." Elsa murmurs unthinkingly.

Red raises her brow at the same time Elsa's eyes widen in realization.

"Yeah?" Red breathes out unsteadily, part of her feeling oddly relieved to hear Elsa say that, even if she hadn't meant to say it.

Meanwhile Elsa struggles with a response, beyond mortified those words had actually slipped out. "I..."

Just then someone clears their throat.

Both of them slightly jump, unprepared for a third party to join the equation in that moment, and instantly pull away from each other.

Red releases a silent groan at the sight of Snow smiling at them sheepishly, bow in hand.

_God damnit, Berry. Worse timing ever._

"Sorry to interrupt." Snow says, but moves closer anyways. "We just wanted to make sure you two were alright and hadn't been compromised."

When she's close enough, she stops and looks to Elsa specifically. "I apologize for earlier, Elsa. Things got a little out of hand and we didn't mean to gang up on you like that. I realize now we kind of just dumped this plan on you and jumped to the conclusion that you'd go along with it. We probably made you feel like we just wanted to use you for your powers and that was not our intention. We truly do want to help you."

"Uh, thank you, Snow." Elsa says, her mind still partially focused on what had just happened before her arrival.

"As for our plan, it was merely a suggestion." Snow assures. "I don't want you to feel obligated to go along with it if you don't feel you should."

"No I want to." Elsa lightly interjects. "I mean, I don't _want_ to, but I know I'll probably have to engage your step-mother in a less than diplomatic manner if I'm to get my sister back...I just don't know how good of an adversary I'll be against her - if any. I don't relish the thought of purposefully harming another human being, even one as vile as her, but at the same time..."

"Sometimes you have to do what you have to do." Snow finishes quietly with an understanding nod. "Even if you don't necessarily want to."

Elsa nods. "And if I can help free the realm from the Evil Queen's iron fist, then I have to at least try, right?"

"As do I." Snow brings up. "Even if you don't agree with our plan, I would still like to come with you. I have to face my step-mother. Someone needs to stand up to her."

"She'll incinerate your ass, Berry." Red speaks up, scoffing her disbelief.

"That's a risk I'm willing to take. I have to make things right. I abandoned my people and left them to fend for themselves, without a leader, without any source of hope. I realize now that running away, even with justification, is not the princess way of going about things. Besides," Snow perks up a little and takes out an arrow from her quiver. "Thanks to Robin's teachings he's _not_ the only skilled archer."

Snow lifts her bow to demonstrate and, without looking, smugly releases an arrow sideways.

Red turns her head and follows the arrow's path, watching as it hits an unsuspecting bird who chose the wrong moment to fly by.

The bird drops to the ground with a squawk.

Snow's eyes widen in horror when she looks back.

"Oh my god!" Snow drops her bow, horrified, and runs over to the animal, her arms flailing around like a dramatic little puppet. "I'm a murderer!"

Concerned, Elsa instinctively sets out to follow her but stops at the last second, picking up on Red's roaring laughter.

"Red, it's not funny!"

"The hell it isn't." she snorts, amazed that just fucking happened.

Elsa just turns around and walks away.

While she's making her way over to Snow, Red runs ahead of her, mimicking the hobbit's wild arm movements.

Successfully getting a solid laugh out of the snowflake.

—

The following morning Red awakens much like she had the day before: a little disoriented and a hella groggy. Only difference was this time around her body wasn't as sore.

Tired, Red rolls onto her back and covers her face with her arms. She lies still for a moment. Then, when it becomes clear that it was still too damn bright and her body was too awake to go back to sleep, she raises her head above her head to stretch.

Red sits up afterward, blinking sleepily. She peers down at herself out of habit.

It takes a second for the blood on her skin to register.

Red jerks back when it does, her eyes widening in horror.

Holy shit.

She scrambles away from the sight, her head snapping around, panicked.

No.

No, not again. Oh God...

Red's train of internal panic trails off when she catches sight of the mangled deer carcass a few feet away.

Glancing back at her arm, she tentatively leans in and licks the blood off. And sure enough. Animal blood. Not human.

_Holy fuck._ Red drops her head against her knee, so fucking relieved she could cry.

And speaking of crying, she could practically hear Snow's indignant wailing in her head. If she'd had a meltdown over a stupid bird (which fortunately she did not killl - just grazed its' wing) god only knows how much she'd overreact if she found out she ate poor defenseless Bambi.

(Now Red's not one for naming animals but the deer definitely looked like it could be a Bambi.)

Anyways.

Even though it'd been a false alarm, Red's still left feeling a little shaken up. Which was stupid and irrational she knew but she really couldn't fucking help it. For a minute there she'd thought she was reliving her worst nightmare all over again.

As usual everyone's already awake by the time she makes it back to the group. Rapunzel, Elsa, and Snow are standing around talking when Rapunzel catches sight of her, the other two with their backs toward her.

Red watches as the blonde says something to Elsa, prompting the snowflake to turn around.

As Elsa walks over to her, Red swallows hard, feeling really fucking happy and relieved to see her for some reason.

"Good morning." Elsa greets softly.

Red doesn't say anything in return, just closes the distance between them and steps into her unsuspecting embrace. They had some things they still needed to talk about but at the moment she could care less about it. She just wanted a hug.

"Are you okay?" she hears Elsa question, naturally concerned.

Red closes her eyes and sighs, Elsa's scent providing her with some much needed comfort. "Crappy start to the day." she murmurs, her chin now resting against the blonde's shoulder.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Red pulls away with a shake of her head. "But you mind taking a walk with me?" She wanted to be around Elsa for a little while, but without the group setting.

Elsa just nods. "Lead the way."

They end up back by the river, to the spot they naturally gravitated to every time they wanted a moment to themselves, and sit down next to each other on the grass.

"So what did I do last night?"

Elsa glances back at her, frowning curiously. "What makes you think I saw you last night?"

"When I woke up I could smell you on me." she answers, staring out at the water. "Which means I was probably hanging around you again."

That's partly why she'd freaked the fuck out. One of the first things she'd remembered registering as she woke up was Elsa's scent. To smell that first and then to find the blood on her...

"Yes, you came to me again." Elsa confirms, apparently thinking nothing of it.

"Did I bring you another rabbit?" she questions half-jokingly, though on the inside feeling slightly sick. Elsa hanging around her wolf was just asking for trouble and after this morning...

Red just wished her wolf would knock it off and leave the girl alone.

"No, no rabbit thankfully." Elsa smiles. "I talked. You just listened. Or at least I like to think you did."

Red looks over at her curiously. "About what?"

"Stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" she frowns, not liking her vagueness.

"Just stuff." Elsa shrugs, evading the question.

Red quirks her brow. "Keeping secrets with my wolf are you now, snowflake?"

Elsa drops her gaze to her lap. "Sometimes I just need to talk out loud and have someone listen but not..."

"Judge?" she says, barely able to contain her scoff. "You know I don't judge you."

Not gonna lie she was a little hurt that Elsa was using her inability to remember as a wolf as a reason to talk to her about certain things.

"I know that." Elsa nods in earnest before turning away again. "I just...some things I'm not ready to talk to you about."

Not satisfied with that response in the slightest, all Red can manage is "Oh."

Elsa's expression falters. "I've upset you."

Red opens her mouth to assure her otherwise, but Elsa cuts her off with another unnecessary apology. "I'm sorry. It's not that I don't trust you, because I do. I'm just confused and struggling to understand—if I could talk to anyone about it, it would be you." she huffs nervously. "But I can't because you...I don't know how you'd react. And I just can't handle the idea of losing you a-as a friend."

Red just blinks. "This is about yesterday, isn't it?" she realizes.

Elsa just said she was confused - she had to be talking about their kiss, right? After all first she'd made that comment like she'd enjoyed it, only to act like it never happened right after. Red had wanted to talk to her about some more but to be honest she couldn't bring herself to bring it up.

"It really doesn't matter." Elsa decides with a quick shake of her head. "Forget I said anything."

"Let's not." she says, for once ignoring her pleading eyes.

"Red, I really don't want to talk about this."

"Well tough because I think we should." she scoffs.

"Look," she starts again in a calmer tone. "A lot of crazy went down yesterday and...we kissed. Or rather, _I_ kissed you."

"Because you were trying to get me to calm down. So you've said." Elsa nods, shifting uncomfortably.

"I know but..." Red trails off, blowing out a nervous breath. She couldn't believe she was actually going to say this out loud _to_ her. "But yesterday...now that I think about it more, I don't know, maybe I just said that as an excuse. Maybe I did it because subconsciously I wanted to, you know?"

"You wanted to kiss me?" Elsa questions, trying to understand.

"I think so, yeah." she nods.

Yesterday, after everything that had er, _happened_, she kind of had a hard time not thinking about it - the kiss. At first she'd figured it was just because she was worried about having royally fucked things up between them, but then it started to occur to her that maybe there was more to it than that.

If Rapunzel had had the panic attack, would she have kissed her to calm her down? Probably not.

But even if she had, Red wouldn't have replayed the moment over and over in her mind like she had done yesterday.

Now Red knew she could be a little dense at times but even she knew that meant something.

"But...what about Rapunzel?"

Red furrows her brow, the mention of their blonde friend snapping her out of her inner monologue. "What about her?"

"Aren't you? I thought...I mean you two shared a bed while you were staying at the castle." Elsa frowns.

"Doesn't mean we were like getting naked with together." she laughs, Elsa's burning cheeks hard not to smile at. "We just...after spending so much of our lives alone, we kind of enjoy having a presence there beside us, you know? Makes us feel less alone."

"So you aren't..."

"Best friends, that's it." Red assures, still shaking her head at the very idea.

Elsa just nods, looking down thoughtfully.

The silence making her uneasy, Red decides to press on. "Look, you've got a lot on your plate as it is, I get that. And it's okay if you don't er, like me like that. Don't you worry. I'm not like gonna get weird on you or anything. I just...Rapunzel and Snow have been putting all these ideas in my head and...I don't know." she murmurs, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck.

"Maybe they were onto something, maybe they were just screwing with me..." Red trails off with a sigh and meets her gaze. "Can you just say something please? Otherwise I'm just gonna keep on awkwardly rambling."

"I don't..." Elsa shakes her head, her breathing uneven. "I can't."

"Can't because you're not interested?" she wonders, her eyes narrowing slightly.

If that was the case, she could accept it and move on, but she knew it wasn't - Elsa wouldn't be giving her that really pained look otherwise.

"Red...you. Me. _We're girls_." she whispers to her, eyes wide, as if Red didn't already know.

Having a better understanding now, Red sighs and nods. "Look just because parents shove down this idea that girls are supposed to live happily ever with their fairytale princes, doesn't mean we have to accept it. It's _okay_ if you don't."

"And I know a lot of people think differently but loving someone who isn't the opposite sex isn't wrong." she says firmly... only to add in rushed and slightly panicked tone, "That's not to say that _I_ love you because that would be really fast and intense and that would probably freak out you out more than I already have. I'm just saying that to make a point. I don't - I'm not - I _like_ you."

Good god. What the fuck is wrong with her? Berry babbles less than this!

"I...I like you too." Elsa stammers. "But I don't know what to do with that." she confesses, still looking very much like she was about to break down.

"Well hell if I know." Red says, scoffing lightly. "I'm still trying to process just much as you are."

The more they talked about it out loud, the more she realized she did in fact_ like_ Elsa, but that was all she was really sure about at the moment.

After a few silent moments, Elsa speaks up again. "You're special, Red."

Red tilts her head and smiles unsurely at the random compliment. "Special, like 'I've been dropped one too many times as a baby' special or like the 'good' special?"

Elsa glances back at her, looking rather shy. "The '_you make me very happy'_ kind of special."

_Yeah?_ Red unintentionally perks up at that, feeling ridiculously proud all of a sudden.

"You make me happy too, snowflake." she admits, chuckling a little at her reaction just then.

Elsa's eyes widen almost comically. "I do?"

Red nods, a slight laugh escaping her. "You sound so surprised."

"Well I am." Elsa says honestly, staring at her questioningly.

And Red frowns deeply at that. "What, why? Because you don't think you could make anyone happy?"

Elsa shifts uncomfortably. "Maybe, I suppose, on a good day when I'm not accidentally causing chaos with my powers or having irrational panic attacks."

Red feels her expression soften. "Every day is a good day when I'm around you, snowflake. For me and everyone else who's ever truly cared about you, there are no bad days." she lightly touches the girl's nose, smiling. "Remember that."

Elsa turns away with a blush.

After a beat of silence, their eyes meet again with a subtle intensity that makes Red swallow hard again.

"So...now what?" Elsa hedges, slightly worrying her bottom lip.

Red shrugs her shoulders. "Well since you like warm hugs, I don't know, we could hug it out." she drawls, trying to play it cool even though her increasing heart rate was doing anything but. "If you want."

Elsa smiles faintly. "Olaf is the one who likes warm hugs." she lightly reminds, nonetheless shifting toward her and standing.

"No duh." Red scoffs, following suit. "But he's like an extension of you, isn't he?" she points out. "You created him and so he likes what you like. Or at least what you liked as a kid."

Elsa contemplates this for a second. "I never thought about it like that." she chuckles, then nods, realizing the logic. "Makes sense."

"So I take it you had a weird fascination with summer too as a kid?"

Red remembers from the one time she actually talked to the weird little snowman that - aside from hugs - he was totally in love with summer, and sun, and all things hot.

"Growing up, all I knew was cold." Elsa murmurs, her smile a little sad. "For the longest time I wanted to know what it was like to experience warmth. I guess that fixation manifested itself into Olaf's personality too."

"So _that's_ why you like me." Red realizes with an incredulous, but teasing, smile. "Simply for my warmness."

Elsa scoffs a small laugh and playfully rolls her eyes. "Yes, Red, you've figured it out. I have been deceiving you this whole time."

"That's messed up, snowflake." she grins, guiding the blonde in for a hug and resting her chin against her shoulder. "Messed up."

The embrace lasts for a good while before naturally ending on its own. Red keeps her arms wrapped around Elsa even as she pulls back to ask, "Anyone ever tell you you smell exactly like fresh snow?"

Elsa's brow furrows in amusement. "No, I can't say that anyone has." she lightly chuckles. "But _you_ smell like forest."

Red crinkles her nose. "I hope that's a good thing."

"Well I like forest, so yes I think so." Elsa nods, smiling tenderly.

Red grins in response. "Just making sure."

The two of them then share a shy smile and laugh, neither entirely sure what this all meant for them here on out but not really caring either.

* * *

**AN: It's not even funny how many times I wrote, then re-wrote, this chapter. Ideas were scrapped left and right and...yeah. I'm still stressing about it. Ugh. If only these chapters were as easy to write as the Storybrooke chapters...my life would be so much easier.**

**The next chapter will of course be about Quinntana dealing with the aftermath of Rachel's party or rather them _not_ dealing. I have a bunch of fun scenes planned, including a trinity dinner with Santana's abuela. Hopefully you'll all stick around. Plenty of Quinntana. Promise.**

**Again, thank you so much for all the continued support, it fills me with so much joy to know you're enjoying this little random story of mine!**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Phew! Hello once again! I expected my finals to delay this chapter but they didn't as much as I thought they would.  
**

**There's a little of everything in this chapter - even a small Brittany POV section (hopefully it doesn't feel too out of place and/or random, I was trying something new there). **

**That's about all I have to say. Read. enjoy. review!**

* * *

When Santana finally regains consciousness she's surprised to find herself standing in the middle of a hallway. Not like a school hallway though— no, this floor was carpeted and the hall itself, with its high ceiling and elaborate decoration, looked like it belonged in like a castle or something.

Santana honestly had no idea where she was. But she did know that, wherever this place was, it wasn't Storybrooke, that's for sure.

As Santana slowly turns around, taking in her surroundings, her gaze falls to the floor. The strange, but unmistakable, sight of an ice trail at her feet having caught her eye.

The hell?

Naturally she follows the trail with her eyes, her gaze gradually lifting the further along it went.

That's when she sees it.

Er, _her_, she should say.

Though the figure was slightly out of focus from where Santana was standing, she's still able make out a blonde in shimmering blue walking into the distance.

Santana blinks hard for a moment, trying to clear up her eyesight, before following after the girl, er woman? She hurries without hesitation, knowing the mysterious blonde could very well round the corner and disappear before she could get a hold of her.

"Hey, wait!"

The girl with the side braid doesn't seem to hear her - that or she's choosing to ignore her. Either way, Santana hastens her pace, not one to be deterred.

She had to get to this girl for some reason. Just _had_ to.

Fortunately she's fast and able to catch up to the blonde relatively quickly. "Hey!" she tries again.

It's only as she's reaching for the blonde that Santana nearly slips up, realizing with a start that she actually knows this person.

"_Quinn?_"

While her snowflake noticeably tenses at the name, she doesn't stop.

Santana frowns deeply at this.

...Okay? Quinn had clearly heard her but was choosing to ignore her. Why?

"Quinn. Wait." she says to no avail. "_Quinn_."

Now starting to get annoyed, Santana roughly grabs onto the blonde's wrist. "Quinn, what the hell—"

The blonde whips around so suddenly it catches Santana completely off-guard. "Stop calling me that!" she yells, yanking her arm free from the Latina's touch.

Santana actually recoils from the piercing hazel eyes staring so angrily at her. "What do you mean?"

What the hell did she ever do?

"That name! It's. Not. My. Name! It's _never_ been my name!" Quinn stresses, her voice sounding hoarse, like she's been arguing this for a while. "For God's sake why can't you get that through that thick skull of yours?"

Not used to seeing the blonde act so...un-Quinn, Santana finds herself at a loss of what to say - even though she has about a hundred unanswered questions currently running through her head.

Why the fuck was she so mad at her?

Did she totally just space out on a conversation they'd been having?

What was up with the sparkle dress?

And what did she mean 'Quinn' was not her name?

Her gaze flickering back to the blonde in question, Santana suddenly finds herself watching helplessly as Quinn's expression crumbles, her lack of a response apparently having just wounded the girl further.

Santana sucks in a sharp breath, the tears welling up in those hazel eyes making her feel like she'd just been punched in the stomach. She hadn't meant to make her cry.

When Quinn finally looks back at her, no longer trying in vain to hold back her tears, she fixates Santana with this beyond defeated stare before whispering brokenly, "Why can't you remember me?"

Santana swallows hard, not even sure how to begin to answer that. She's never seen Quinn this raw and emotional before, and to be quite honest it was kind of freaking her the fuck out.

"Just tell me what I did." the blonde pleads, her wavering voice excruciatingly soft. "Please. Tell me what I did to make you forget me. Forget _us_."

Santana stops, backtracking those words with a frown. Wait. Forget her?

Huh?

"Quinn what the hell are you talking about?" she hears herself demand, her own voice shaky from discomfort.

Quinn turns away for a brief second, her eyes falling shut, before crying out in despair. "Stop calling me that!" she says, shaking out trembling hands. "That's not my name. You know that!"

Before Santana can even say anything to the contrary, Quinn continues, more desperately, with her eyes directly seeking hers. "I'm _right_ here. Why can't you see that?"

Santana shakes her head unknowingly. "I...don't..." she trails off, unable to handle the amount of hurt staring back at her.

It was all too much.

Needing to put some distance between them, Santana pulls back...only to smack her head full force against some kind of metal frame.

"¡Mierda!" she curses, awakened suddenly by the devastating blow. The back of her head now screaming in agony, Santana's forehead drops into the floor, a pitiful groan escaping her.

Ow.

Santana waits for the pain to subside enough before attempting to lift her throbbing head.

What the fuck was that?

_One really fucking bizarre dream_, her brain immediately answers, looking around through narrowed eyes.

Not to mention super unsettling.

Another thing that was unsettling? The dark, confined space she suddenly found herself in.

_Why the fuck am I under a bed?_

Having no reasonable explanation for it, Santana proceeds to slither out from under the bed, only to balk at the astoundingly bright light she's met with.

_Holy mother of God._

Why is it so goddamn bright? This is some _surface of the sun_ shit.

Santana waits until her corneas adjust enough to where she can actually blink again before attempting to stand. The movement though, however careful, still succeeds in throwing her hungover ass for a loop. Like literally, her vision spins and everything.

_Órale._

In attempt to steady herself, Santana closes her eyes and lightly rests her hands against her temple. She's not sure how long she stays like that but it's probably an embarrassing while.

When the dizzy spell passes, she dares to open her eyes and take a glance around at her surroundings.

Though her eyes remain squinted and her vision a little blurry, she's still able to recognize the bedroom to be Rachel's (the Broadway paraphernalia and the god awful gold stars a dead giveaway).

Across the floor, she finds random crap scattered everywhere with the hobbit's closet and dresser drawers looking like it'd been raided. The whole place appears to have been devastated by a hurricane.

Yeah, _Hurricane Santana_.

Now most of last night was a complete blank slate in her memory but looking around, she could conclude that she - at one point or another - had rifled through Berry's stuff. Presumably for the hell of it.

What? It was a thing she liked to do. Sober or not.

And it's probably why she'd been under Rachel's bed. She must've passed out while looking for some embarrassing evidence she could use against her.

At that thought, Santana pats her bra for anything she might have found, like a photo or page out of the hobbit's diary.

What? Bras are very handy storage facilities.

...Not that she has _a lot_ of space to work with.

She fills her bras out just fine thanks.

Mentally shaking her head, Santana walks out of Rachel's room to find the others, the heel of her hand rubbing her sleepy eye.

Surprisingly, and she says surprisingly because from what little she remembered the party had been contained to the basement, the rest of Berry home looked like a scene straight out of _The Hangover_.

Santana just hoped there wasn't a fucking tiger in the bathroom.

Although that'd be kind of cool if there was and it like, swallowed Berry whole.

The thought able to bring a tired smile to her face, Santana follows her nose into the Berry kitchen where she smells freshly brewed coffee. Before locking eyes on a coffee machine she first comes across a just as hungover Brittany sitting at the island counter, lying face first buried underneath her arms. Next to her sits a cup of half drunk coffee.

Now you know Britts was hungover if she was drinking coffee over her preferred hot chocolate.

"Remind me why the fuck we do this to ourselves?" Santana poses tiredly, walking around the blonde to pour herself a cup of coffee.

She's fairly surprised the Berrys even had a coffee machine considering she's pretty sure Rachel at one point told her caffeine killed the vocal chords. Or maybe that was dairy. Or both. Either way, whatever.

Brittany grudgingly lifts her head at the sound of her voice. "Because alcohol makes everything more fun." she mumbles, resting her chin against her arm.

Santana snorts, a mug hovering in front of her mouth. "Yeah until it doesn't." she murmurs before taking a tentative sip. She immediately pulls a face, the particular blend not to her liking at all.

"Where's Quinn?" she grimaces, reeling from the awful taste that lingered on her tongue.

"I don't know." Brittany shakes her head, her hands now resting on either side of her face. "I thought she'd be with you."

Santana shakes her head and sets down her coffee mug on the counter. "No."

Concerned, she leaves Brittany in her half-awake state and sets off to scour the rest of the house for their missing Trinity member. She ends up checking all the rooms uncaring if the doors were closed or not. Along the way she finds some of the glee kids passed out in random places but most were still down in the basement (and thankfully all still clothed).

Santana returns to the kitchen a few minutes later, empty-handed. She'd literally checked everywhere - even the backyard and the garage - and still no snowflake.

"Well the girl's MIA." she declares, still groggy, as she walks back over to the kitchen counter. She glances down at her cell phone which she'd retrieved from the basement. "And she's not answering her phone. I sent her a text though. Bitch better call back before I fucking hunt her down."

"I'm sure she's fine. She probably went home." Brittany turns away from Berrys' cabinets, disgruntled. "Rachel ain't got crap here."

Santana chuckles at her friend's uncharacteristic swearing. Brittany, like any other normal human being, did tend to get real grumpy when she was tired and hungry.

"She's vegan, of course she doesn't. All she eats is kale and mushroom juice."

Brittany sighs, then raises her brow expectantly at her. "My house then?"

"Hell yeah."

No way did she wanna hang around here when the others woke up. She could barely tolerate them sober, never mind hungover.

The walk to Brittany's house, however short, might as well been a death march. Being so early meant it was still beyond cold out and bright as fuck. And sure while they'd highjacked two pairs of Rachel's sunglasses from her room, they didn't shield their eyes nearly as much as they would have liked.

Thankfully they're able to sneak into the Pierce home undetected. In hindsight they probably should have headed over to Quinn's considering she was their alibi for this weekend anyways but her place was too fucking far and their brains were barely functioning as it was.

Santana all but collapses on Brittany's bed the second she lays eyes on it. Now fed (she and Britt had quickly scarfed down some Eggo waffles in the kitchen) all she needed was about a month of sleep and she'd be good to go.

"Did Quinn ever text you back?" Brittany asks, glancing at her phone. Shortly after they'd left Rachel's house, she'd sent a text to Quinn too just to make sure she was alright. She still had yet to receive a response.

Santana rolls onto her stomach and checks. "No." she yawns, extending her arm and setting the device back down on Brittany's nightstand.

Brittany walks over to her window and shuts the blinds and curtains. "Should we check on her?" she asks when she's done, turning toward the bed.

"I'm sure she's fine." Santana yawns again, echoing the blonde's earlier sentiments as her her head sags against her pillow.

Brittany sets her own phone down on the nightstand before joining Santana on the bed.

"You're just saying that because you don't want to get up." she smiles knowingly.

Santana shrugs, too tired to care. "That makes me a horrible friend, I know."

"Mmm." Brittany lies down next to her and the second her head hits her pillow, knocks out like a light.

Santana's on the verge of doing the same when she hears one of their phones beep on the nightstand. Instinctively grabbing hers, she unlocks the screen and reads over the new text message she receives from Quinn.

_I'm home, safe and sound. Sorry I just left. I wasn't feeling well. I'll text you later when I've gotten some more rest._

Relieved, Santana texts back with a quick, _K. Be sure to drink plenty of water._

She's just about to set her phone back down when it beeps again. _You too, Santana. And remember, coffee doesn't count!_

Santana scoffs quietly and lies back down against her pillow. _Bitch don't tell me what to do_.

Quinn replies almost instantly. _Go to sleep cranky pants._

_Fine. But I'm only doing it cause I'm hungover n tired as fuck, not cause you said so_, she texts back.

Apparently Quinn was trying to end the conversation because Santana receives a rather exasperated response a few seconds later. _You. Me. Sleep NOW!_

Santana grins at the message, her body momentarily forgetting its fatigue. _You wanna sleep with me, Q? Wanky._

_You know what I meant. _

Santana snickers to herself, clearly able to hear the blonde's embarrassment even through the text.

_Wanky Fabray. That's so gonna be your new nickname from now on._

_And I'm shutting off my phone now..._

_GOOD OL' WANKY FABRAY!_

That last text makes Santana snicker ridiculously hard for some reason.

Man, she is hilarious.

...and maybe still a little bit drunk.

—

Despite having literally slept away her Sunday, Santana walks into school Monday morning still very much hungover. And disgustingly tired.

She'd had some trouble getting to sleep last night, not only from sleeping through the whole day but from the repeat performance of that weird as fuck Quinn dream she'd had the morning before. She still had no idea what the hell any of it meant, but she wasn't gonna try and figure it out anytime soon.

What little brain function she had was gonna be put toward things like breathing and _maybe_ blinking, and that's about it - forget interpreting convoluted dreams.

With coffee in hand, Santana slowly makes her way over to her locker, feeling very much like her poor brain cells were being shot point blank every time some dickwad decided to shout across the hall or slam their locker shut.

"Mondays should be fucking outlawed." she grumbles, walking up to the dazed blonde next to her.

Brittany nods in agreement. "I need to close my locker and the sound just may make my head explode." she grimaces, staring out behind over sized sunglasses at her open locker, dreading the inevitable.

Santana opens her own locker as delicately as she can, then shifts her gaze to her small locker mirror. Taking in her reflection, she muses pleasantly surprised, "Isn't it amazing how I can feel so bad and still look so good?"

_I'm so awesome I make hungover look hot._

"Just one of the many perks that comes with being us." Brittany agrees, chuckling slightly, before dropping her gaze. "I hope one of those is for me." she says, catching sight of the cup holder in the Latina's hands.

Santana looks back at her questioningly, then realizes what she was referring to. "Oh right. Yeah."

She picks up one of the coffee cups and passes it over to Brittany, lightly shaking her head. "I'm so not awake."

"Me either."

The blonde sighs gratefully when she first inhales the hazelnut aroma.

"So," Brittany turns around after a few sips and leans back against the lockers, now waiting on the Latina. "Do you remember the party at all?"

Santana thinks about it for a moment before ultimately shaking her head. "Not really. Though I do remember _you_ went all stripper status." she says, smirking over at the blonde.

"Again?" Brittany throws her head back in a silent groan. "Man, why do I always do that when I get drunk?"

Santana carefully closes her locker before responding. "Cause you love to dance and god knows you love to hang around in your birthday suit." she chuckles, starting them off toward class. "I have a feeling your parents let you roam around the house naked a little too much when you were a kid."

"Shut up, they did not." Brittany scoffs, embarrassed.

Santana smirks behind the rim of her coffee cup. "_Nature girl_."

"Whatever." Brittany playfully glares. "Did your abuela suspect anything when you came home?" she asks, changing the subject a moment later.

"I wouldn't be surprised." Santana shrugs, unknowing. "I was dry heaving like all before dinner last night and when she asked what the sound was, I said I was practicing bird calls."

Brittany snorts a laugh. "That's the dumbest excuse I've ever heard. And that's coming from me." she says, stealing a teasing sidelong glance at her.

"Shut up, B." Santana scowls, lightly nudging her aside as they round the corner. "It was the best excuse I could think of at the time."

Brittany just shakes her head. "And people say I'm the 'special' one." she snickers.

"Says the girl who thinks a ballad is a male duck and a duet is a blanket." Santana scoffs in return.

"Yeah well..." Brittany trails off with a pout, before triumphantly reminding, "_You_ made out with a shrub." she smirks haughtily.

Santana just rolls her eyes. "For your information it was a _mannequin_ I made out with." she corrects, glancing back at the blonde somewhat incredulously. After all this girl was supposed to be her _best _friend. "I had the sex dream about the shrub. C'mon, B!" Santana lightly smacks her arm. "Get your facts straight."

Brittany stares at her, perplexed. "How can I when you're anything but?" she returns questioningly, slipping in the sass oh-so casually.

Santana shakes her head, the blonde barely able to contain her smile, and laughs in spite of herself.

"Touché, Pierce." she nods, raising her coffee cup and lightly bumping it with hers.

—

Santana shifts restlessly in her seat, bored out of her ever loving mind. She's been nodding on and off for the past twenty minutes now and it was really starting to tick her off. She wanted nothing more than to get her sleep on but she'd be damned if she became the girl who fell asleep in class and like started snoring or some shit.

Plus with her luck she'd probably get caught doing it and be humiliated by the teacher.

Yeah, _no thanks_.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Santana sighs and straightens up in her seat. Just sitting here and not listening to the teacher lecture was not helping. She needed to do _something_ if she was gonna keep herself from face planting right here on her desk.

Glancing down at the textbook she has tucked under her notebook, Santana actually considers taking some chapter notes.

Then realizes she'd brought the wrong book to class.

Well there goes that idea.

(Like she actually planned on following through with it anyways).

Huffing slightly, Santana rests her chin in her palm and looks elsewhere. The rest of the class looked just about as uninterested as she felt, with the few glee clubbers she never realized shared this same period looking particularly haggard.

When her eyes land on Quinn, who she'd actually forgotten was sitting a few feet away (yeah, she was _that_ out of it today), she perks up a little, a light bulb in her head immediately going off.

Santana turns back to her things and rips out a blank page from her notebook, using it to scribble a quick question on it. Once she has the paper folded up into a small triangle, she covertly flicks it onto the blonde's desk.

Fortunately they were both sitting near the back so she wasn't too concerned about getting caught.

(Not that she ever is).

Quinn turns her head and Santana immediately rolls her eyes at the blonde's questioning glance, then gestures for her to just read it.

Quinn does and a moment later the note lands back on her desk.

Santana quickly opens the note.

Under her initial conversation starter of, _Go-to hangover food?_, Quinn had written, _Anything greasy, like french fries. Though that's not to say I get hangovers often..._

Santana smirks to herself as she writes her response. _Uh-huh. Sure you don't, snowflake._

When she gets the note back, she can't help but chuckle at the cute smiley face drawing with its tongue sticking out at her.

Underneath it Quinn asks her, _What's your favorite hangover food?_

_Hot Pockets._ She writes automatically before elaborating, _The pepperoni pizza kind. They're totally disgusting when you're sober but are like heavenly goodness when you're hungover._

As she's scribbling out her reply, it occurs to Santana that they could just as easily continue this conversation the 21st century way (via text) but she's not gonna lie it's been like _forever_ since she's passed actual physical notes in class and she kind of missed the old school way of writing secret conversation.

Before folding up the paper, Santana throws in another question at the bottom. _Guilty pleasure snack? (Aside from bacon!)_

Looking over, she watches as Quinn smiles at the comment. The blonde returns the note shortly thereafter with: _You're so random...what's with all the food questions?_

Santana looks up and shrugs at her before responding on paper. _I'm bored and hungry. Answer, woman!_

Quinn flicks back the note. _Hostess Snowballs._

Santana snorts a quiet laugh. She really should have seen that one coming. _Of course you like those!_

_Oh shut up! _She could easily picture Quinn blushing while writing that. _They happen to be really good._

_I was always more of a Ho Ho girl myself, _she grins.

_Of course you are._

_Sassing me are you, Fabray? _Santana waits for Quinn to finish reading her response before quirking an eyebrow over at her.

Quinn merely responds with a cheeky smiley face drawing - one that couldn't compare to the adorable smile she'd flashed her in real life.

Santana shakes her head, still smiling to herself. She'd take those cute little drawings over stupid text message emoticons any day.

_And you say I'm the dork!_

This back and forth continues for the rest of the period. They get so caught up in it, in fact, that by the time the bell rings they're the only ones who don't hop out of their seats to leave, everyone else having been packed and ready to go ten minutes prior.

"Just when we started playing Hangman." Santana grumbles, grudgingly rising from her seat.

She'd had a good sentence in mind too!

Beside her, Quinn chuckles, having clearly heard that comment.

"We're so picking this up during lunch." she declares, the two of them making their way to the front of the room together.

They're just about to leave when Mr. Clippinger, their teacher, calls them back at the last second.

"Wait a minute ladies."

Quinn and Santana exchange a quick look before walking back up to the man's desk.

Without looking up from his lesson plan, Mr. Clippinger hands them two yellow detention slips. "It would have been less obvious if you two had been texting."

While Quinn's expression falters, Santana just stares in disbelief.

What the... _s__eriously?_

Too stunned to even think to fight the punishment, Santana just takes her slip while Quinn sheepishly mumbles their apologizes.

"C'mon, Santana."

Santana starts to follow the blonde only to be stopped once more time.

"And Ms. Lopez?"

Santana stills for a moment, then grudgingly turns back around. _What now? _she almost whines.

Mr. Clippinger dips his head to look at her above his reading glasses. "You do realize you weren't even supposed to be in this class this period, right?"

—

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me sooner?" Santana loudly exclaims the second they're out of earshot.

Quinn turns away with a shake of her head, still struggling to contain herself. The whole thing was just too fucking funny apparently. "I was going to tell you when you walked into class with me," she finally says, breathless from all the laughing. "But then I figured you'd eventually come to it on your own, at least before class started."

"_And when I didn't?_" she scoffs, still totally mortified.

"I don't know." Quinn shrugs, biting down on her lip to hide her grin. And failing. "Before I knew it we were passing notes and you were kind of the only thing keeping me awake...if I'd known how much it'd backfire on me and how you'd land me in detention, I definitely would have said something."

Santana glances down at her detention slip again and frowns. "Can he even give detention to someone not even in his class?" she asks, puzzled.

"You have him later, don't you?"

Her eyes widening in realization, Santana throws her head back in a long exaggerated groan. "I don't have to go his class _twice_ in one day, do I?"

Quinn shrugs unknowingly, her smile faltering. "I still can't believe he actually gave us detention." she huffs, staring down at her own slip incredulously. "I mean, really, not even a warning for a first time offense?"

Santana smiles sympathetically at her, knowing that fact was in part her fault. "Sorry, Q, but you're a delinquent by association now. There are no warnings."

Quinn looks up at her, first dismayed, then worried. "Detentions don't go on your permanent record, right?"

"Who knows, who cares?" she shrugs.

Quinn raises her brow at her. "Colleges, for one."

Santana rolls her eyes and stops once they reach the end of the hallway. "I doubt any college worth going to gives a flying rat's ass if you were sent to detention _once_ for passing notes in class."

Quinn shakes her head, unappeased. "You're a horrible influence, you know that?"

Santana just turns on her heel with a smirk. "You bet your sweet ass I am." she saucily replies over her shoulder, needing to get to her next class.

"See you in detention, snowflake!"

—

"Does it look like I give a shit?"

When Santana poses this question, it's later that day, and right in front of Quinn's locker.

Quinn, naturally confused by the greeting, looks over at her with a frown. "Huh?"

Santana stops and gestures to herself. "Right now. This face. Does it look like I give a shit? Because apparently to like all my teachers so far, it does."

"I'm afraid I'm not following." Quinn slowly says, her brow just scrunching up even further.

"It's like fucking pick on Santana Lopez day in all my classes!" she exclaims, involuntarily throwing her arms out. "Damn faculty. It's like they know I'm hungover and since they've got nothing better to do, they figure they might as well make my existence even more miserable."

Santana shakes her head, because honestly you'd think her teachers would know better by now than to pick on her...like at all.

"But you know what? Joke's on them because I swear Imma pull a Mike Tyson on the next teacher to fucking call on me with some stupid ass question they _know_ I don't know."

Quinn blinks her surprise. "So you're going to bite your teacher's ear off?" she asks, looking mildly disgusted.

Santana pulls back slightly and quirks her brow. "You actually understood that reference?"

Quinn nods slowly. "Though I'm not sure what I'm more surprised by - my understanding or your referencing Mike Tyson in the first place."

Santana concedes a nod. True boxing references were kind of out of the ordinary for her.

"It's the hangover talking." she reasons simply.

"Literally." Quinn chuckles, before quirking her brow teasingly. "Does this mean you're going to sing Phil Collin's _In the Air Tonight_ in glee today?"

Santana playfully glares at her. "Shut up, snowflake." she grumbles, her hand coming up to rest against her temple, feeling her headache flare back up again.

Too much fucking brain activity, she guessed.

Sensing her dilemma, Quinn reaches into her locker and pulls out her make-up bag. "Here."

Santana lifts her gaze in time to see the blonde hand over two blue pills. "Fabray you druggie." she smirks, taking them nonetheless.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "It's Advil." she sighs, lightly shaking her head. "It'll help with the headache."

"Probably help if I ate something too." Santana tosses back the small pills and takes the offered water bottle to wash it down. After swallowing, she returns the water and looks back at Quinn. "Speaking of which, did you bring lunch?"

She herself had totally forgotten about making lunch this morning. She was so out of it, it's any wonder she remembered to put on underwear.

"I've got...baby carrots." Quinn responds after a moment, reaching into her locker and holding up a clear plastic bag. Apparently she'd forgotten about lunch too.

Santana pulls a face at the offending item. "What are you, a rabbit? That isn't lunch - hell those don't even count as a snack. There's only one orange snack food in this world and that's cheese puffs."

Quinn stares at her and shakes her head in amazement. "How you can get away with eating so much processed food and still be so thin is beyond me."

"The sheer awesomeness of my genes prevents me from getting fat." she casually shrugs. "It also prevents me from being unattractive even when I feel like utter shit."

"So you're saying it's physically impossible for you to look ugly?" Quinn chuckles, eyeing her skeptically.

"Precisely."

Quinn turns away with a slight smile and closes her locker. "If you feel so awful why didn't you just stay home today?"

Santana pushes away from the row of lockers and starts them off. "Because then my abuela would want to know why."

"You could have just said you weren't feeling well." Quinn answers simply enough, walking along side her.

"Yeah," she sighs, "but then that would've given her a reason to whip out the Vicks VapoRub and no me gusta that shit."

Quinn just looks at her questioningly.

Santana shakes her head, not wanting to get into it. "Don't ask. C'mon lets rustle us up some grub before we head on over to detention."

She still couldn't believe they had to go through with that shit. So fucking stupid.

Quinn follows her down the hallway. "Pretty sure it's meatloaf day in the cafeteria. Oh joy." she deadpans.

Santana's whole face scrunches up. She'd sooner sell her abuela than eat that sad excuse for food, hungover or not. "Fuck that." she scoffs. "We are so not eating cafeteria food."

Quinn frowns, not understanding where they'd get food if not from the cafeteria. "Then where...?"

Santana just fixes her with a knowing smirk. "C'mon, snowflake." she says, grabbing the blonde's hand and leading her around the corner.

—

"I can't believe they actually had Hot Pockets." Santana exclaims happily, moaning around a cheesy mouthful.

_This day just got significantly better_.

"I can't believe you made me sneak into the teacher's lounge to get them." Quinn retorts, glancing over her shoulder worriedly, half-expecting some teacher to come chasing after them for stealing from their mini fridge.

Santana glances back at her and scoffs, her voice muffled. "I didn't make you do shit Fabray."

Quinn glances down at the hot pocket in her grasp guiltily. "We're eating some poor teacher's lunch, Santana."

"So what?" she shrugs, too preoccupied with how amaze-balls her hot pocket tasted to really care. Stolen hot pockets were a hella lot better than regular ones for some reason. "We're doing them a favor. God knows ninety-eight percent of the faculty needs to go on Weight Watchers anyways."

Quinn doesn't look any less placated. "What if these are Coach Sylvester's? If they are she'll surely trace it back to us and then _murder_ us."

Santana rolls her eyes. "Please that woman hasn't had a solid meal since 1987."

Quinn sighs to herself and, in spite of her guilt, takes another bite, unable to help herself. "As much as I hate to admit it - you're right." she says after a moment of savoring its taste. "These are actually really good."

Santana looks over at the blonde and chuckles at her adorably satisfied expression. "And that's how you know when you are still super hungover." she says, pushing open the door to their designated detention space.

Quinn thanks her and walks into the classroom first, Santana right behind her. "This is detention?" the blonde can't help but whisper as she takes in their lackluster surroundings.

Santana walks around her and drops their detention slips in front of their sleeping supervisor.

"What were you expecting Molly Ringwald and the rest of the Breakfast club?" she snorts, earning herself a mild glare in return.

"She's dead asleep." Quinn realizes, looking back and noticing Mrs. Hagberg for the first time.

Santana glances over her shoulder. "Yeah, she might just be dead." She nudges Quinn's arm and nods toward the old woman seriously. "You should check her pulse just in case. That funk might be legit."

Quinn's eyes widen in horror.

Santana cracks up, a grin spreading out across her face. "Just messing with you, snowflake." she laughs, placing a hand on the blonde's shoulder as they set off to find seats.

Being that it was detention there was plenty of room - with only five other kids scattered around. (All of whom lacked the originality to warrant a description).

Santana plops herself down in the chair closest to the window and furthest in the back, while Quinn chooses the desk next to hers and turns it sideways.

Once they finish with their hot pockets, Quinn presents her with two options from out of her bag.

"Animal crackers or trail mix?"

Santana's gaze flickers between each package, eyeing them both with an equal amount of disapproval. "Seriously?" Aside from stealing hot pockets she'd also managed to convince Quinn to raid the teacher's lounge vending machine - who knew the girl was so handy with a nail file? - but apparently it was a job she should have done herself.

Her head shakes in disbelief. "I said get the _good_ snacks, Fabray."

Quinn frowns deeply. "Who doesn't like animal crackers?"

"Anyone above the age of four." she huffs, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "Where's the chocolate, man?" She leans forward and grabs the girl's bag for herself. "You had better not be holding out on me, Fabray."

"I'm not-"

"Lies!" Santana exclaims, her mouth gaping comically as she peers inside. Shaking her head, she flips the bag upside down and dumps the better snacks onto her desk.

"Santana!" Quinn whines, the rest of her things dropping to the floor.

"You little mentirosa!" Santana murmurs, still shaking her head as she picks out the snacks she wants from the pile.

"I'll have you know I wasn't lying about anything. I just wanted to show you the healthier options first." Quinn says, rising back up from picking up her things and promptly snatching the package of gummy bears out of the Latina's grasp. "Excuse me for trying to prevent you from getting Diabetes."

"I didn't want those anyways." Santana sniffs, her mouth already filled with two Oreos. "Who the hell has time for all that chewing?"

Quinn shakes her head at her, partly amused and partly disgusted. "Did no one ever teach you to eat like a human being?"

"Bite me, Fabray." she sneers, meanwhile ripping open a bag of Cheetos.

Quinn raises her brow. "You're seriously going to eat those together?" she grimaces, wrinkling her nose.

"You are so not one to talk." Santana loudly scoffs, gesturing to the package of M&amp;M's the blonde was currently dumping into a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips.

"What?" Quinn shrugs, glancing down and back again. "It's sweet and salty."

"_It's nauseating and nasty_."

"To each her own." Quinn merely says before stealing Santana's last Oreo right out of her unsuspecting hand. "What is it that Brittany always says? Oh right, _sharing is caring_." she smirks, biting down.

"Last time I checked there is no fucking 'we' in 'food'." Santana grumbles sourly, crossing her arms and glaring hard while Quinn happily chews on _her_ cookie. "No me gusta."

—

"What the hell is a Capricorn anyways?" Is what Santana currently wants to know.

They're sitting here, talking about random shit as usual, and for the past ten minutes it's been about their winter break and Quinn's upcoming birthday.

"It's a half-goat, half fish creature." Quinn explains, her one hand propping up her head while the other engaged in a thumb wrestling match with Santana's. "The constellation Capricornus is sometimes identified as Pan, the god with a goat's head, who saved himself from the monster Typhon by giving himself a fish's tail and diving into a river."

_She's like a walking encyclopedia._

"So what you're saying is it's a mermaid goat. A mergoat." Santana smirks to herself after successfully defeating the blonde with a trick move she learned from Puckerman. "You're a mergoat." she snickers.

"Yes well _you're_ a virgin."

"In the only sense of the word." Santana chuckles, indulging the blonde with another round even though she's lost twice already. "But you - you're a snowfake mergoat. A snowfloat. Add that to your ever growing list of nicknames."

"I should really give you a nickname." Quinn says, her brow furrowed in concentration. "You have so many for me. It's not fair."

"I don't need any nicknames." Santana scoffs, easily defeating her that time. "My name's awesome as is."

Quinn concedes to a nod, but isn't one to give up until she's bested Santana at least once. "The only name to have Satan in the spelling and still mean 'holy'."

"Talk about your contradiction."

"What about Little Red Riding Hood?"

Santana quirks her brow, amused, because _hello, random_.

"You wear red like all the time." Quinn explains with a shrug. "That could be your nickname."

"More like Little Red Riding _from_ the hood." she smirks, only to receive a playful eye roll in response.

"Dork."

"Speaking of clothes," Santana looks up from their little thumb war and eyes the scarf Quinn had wrapped around her neck all day. "What's with the scarf? I mean it's cute but you're inside."

Quinn stills for a moment before shifting away uncomfortably. "The weather's been colder." she shrugs, suddenly pulling her hand away.

Santana narrows her eyes dubiously. "But you never get cold."

"I just like scarves, okay?" Quinn sighs, almost defensively. "And it goes with my outfit."

"Sure you're not trying to hide a hickey?" she teases.

"That's preposterous."

Says the girl whose cheeks just turned a deeper shade of pink.

Santana raises her brow at this, her eyes widening in realization. "You are!" she hisses, shocked.

She shakes her head and laughs, Quinn sinking down in her chair confirming it. "Oh man, that's hilarious."

"Shut up, Santana."

Santana scoots to the edge of her chair and reaches out for the blonde's scarf. "Lemme see it."

Quinn immediately squirms away, trying to swat away at her hand. "No way."

"Aw come on!" She lunges forward and tries again, this time successfully yanking down the fabric. "Jesus, Fabray." she comments, peering closer to better assess the damage. "That shit looks like you got mangled by an animal. Or at the least had a run in with Chris Brown. Ever hear of cover up?"

"I have like seven layers on!" Quinn exclaims as quietly as she can. "You should see it without the make-up."

Santana's gaze lingers on her neck. For some reason, the longer she stares at the blemished skin, the less amusement she finds in it.

"Who did it?" she asks, sitting back and frowning deeply.

If it was Puck she'd fucking castrate him.

If it was Sam she'd gut him like the grouper fish that he was.

And if it was Finn...ugh don't even get her started on what she'd do to that lard loving hamburglar...

Turn him back into pink slime, _that's_ what she do.

"I don't know." she hears Quinn murmur, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Or rather I don't remember."

Santana cocks her head to the side, eyeing he blonde curiously. "Is that why you bolted from Rachel's party Sunday morning?" she questions before smirking, "You didn't wake up to find yourself curled up in Lady Hummel's arms, did you? I'll die laughing if he's the one who gave you that fucking hickey."

Better him than any of those other losers.

"I didn't wake up with anyone thank you very much." Quinn huffs indignantly.

Santana rolls her eyes and sighs. "We were all hammered - in your drunkenness you probably just decided to get very up close and personal with a vacuum cleaner." she says, trying to make light of the situation for the blonde's sake.

Quinn, obviously wanting this conversation to end, just nods her head.

"I think I ransacked Rachel's bedroom." Santana brings up after a moment, steering the conversation in a different direction - even though she still secretly wanted to know who the fuck had given Quinn that monster of a hickey. And then bash their fucking skull in. "It was a total disaster area when I woke up."

"Yeah I noticed that too." Quinn nods, forcing a small chuckle. "I vaguely remember you going through her things at one point."

Santana can't help but slightly raise her brow. So Quinn had been in Rachel's room with her then?

Huh. You'd think she'd have _some_ recollection...

"So, you don't remember anything from the party?" Quinn quietly hedges.

Santana shakes her head at first. "But then again it's only Monday. Maybe later on it'll start to come back to me."

But then again maybe she didn't want to know what kind of shenanigans she got into during Rachel's party.

Ignorance is bliss, after all. And if she finds out she did something super embarrassing like play jingle bells on Finn's man boobs, she just might die.

Santana mentally shakes her head, needing to get rid of that disturbing visual she'd just given herself.

Anyways.

"So, yeah...my abuela wants to do dinner with us this week." she tries to mention casually, only to end up cringing a little, her transition admittedly not that smooth. But she needed to bring it up, having been unceremoniously reminded of it before she left the house this morning. And if she didn't give her abuela an answer by the time she came into work, she'd never hear the end of it.

"Us?" Quinn repeats, her brow raising slightly.

"You, me, and Britt." she confirms with a nod. "You're not like obligated to come or anything though. Last week my abuela was complaining how I'm always over at your guys' houses and blah blah blah..." she trails off with a brief roll of her eyes. "And basically she'd like if you guys came over to our house for a change. So yeah...I already talked to Brittany and she's in. But if you're not, it's fine with me. You'll be sparing yourself a long uneventful evening with a senile old bitty."

"When?"

"I dunno some time this week probably." Sensing some hesitance, Santana continues, "It's _okay_ if you don't wanna do dinner. Don't feel like you have to just for my sake."

"No, it's okay." Quinn promises, lightly shaking her head. "Dinner with your grandmother sounds lovely."

"So naive." Santana sighs with a smile.

"By the way, you're gonna wanna prepare beforehand." At Quinn's confused glance, she explains, "Treat dinner with my abuela like you're going in for surgery. No food at least twenty-fours hours prior. My abuela will fill you with so much rice and beans you'll self-combust otherwise. I know this from experience, trust me."

Quinn narrows her eyes skeptically. "I can't tell if that's just another one of those things you tell people, like the whole razor blades hidden in your hair nonsense, or if you're actually being serious."

"Hey! I'll have you know the whole razor blade thing is totally legit!" she scoffs indignantly. "If I didn't like you so much I'd take those pasty little snowflake hands of yours and make you feel them for yourself. Your hands would come out looking like you just had a run-in with Sweeney Todd."

"Keep up with those Broadway references, Santana, and it won't be long until your transition into a Rachel Berry doppelganger is complete." Quinn quips, smiling at her teasingly.

Santana's just scowl deepens. "Bite me, Fabray."

"Mrs. Hagberg." She suddenly hears a voice say. "Mrs. Hagberg!"

Quinn and Santana collectively turn their heads toward the front of the class, both honing in on that oh-so annoying, and unfortunately very familiar, chirpy voice.

Santana instantly rolls her eyes at the sight of an exasperated Rachel waving her little muppet arms around, trying (and failing) to get the comatose teacher's attention.

Uncanny how that girl always seemed to pop up right after you finished talking about her.

"What the hell are you doing, Berry?" Santana says loudly, mildly startling the shorter brunette. Rachel turns around, confused, then after realizing who was speaking to her, brightens and makes her way over to them.

Santana can't help but pull a face. She totally forgot the whole 'addressing a person' thing could lead to her having to actually make conversation.

Crap.

"Hello, Santana. Quinn." Rachel cordially greets, stopping in front of them. Her brow furrows slightly as she looks to them and wonders, "What are you two doing here in detention?"

"Quinnie here may or may not have punched a teacher in the face. And I may or may not have encouraged it."

"Santana." Quinn admonishes with a mild glare. "We got caught passing notes in class." she explains, reverting her attention.

"Oh." Rachel blinks, then frowns. "Your teacher gave you detention for that? It seems a bit unwarranted."

"No shit." Santana grumbles, slouching back in her seat with her arms folded across her chest.

"Well that just goes to show how completely unfair and ludicrous this public school system really is." Rachel huffs, pulling up a desk and sitting down primly. "For the past twenty-minutes I've been in the school office trying to make an appeal against this uncalled for punishment," she waves around her yellow detention slip haphazardly, "But he was not one to be reasoned with. I'm still debating whether or not to go above all their heads and make an appointment with the superintendent myself."

Santana rolls her eyes, because, hello _what a drama queen_, and snatches the girl's detention slip out of her hand. She can only imagine what 'injustice' it was that got Berry's tail in a knot.

Reading over the slip given by Miss Castle, the school's glue huffing batshit crazy badminton/astronomy teacher, Santana snorts when she reads the reason for the detention.

Scrawled in Miss Castle's messy handwriting and taking up the entire paragraph space at the bottom, read: SHE WON'T SHUT UP! UGH!

"Nice going, Berry." she smirks, flashing the paper to Quinn.

"See?" Rachel shrieks indignantly, snatching the slip back. "It's absurd! A teacher can't give a student detention simply for asking questions - it's what we're supposed to be doing!"

"Berry, it's _Monday_." Santana winces, internally groaning. "How the hell are you so...loud? Aren't you even the least bit hungover still?"

Rachel shakes her head and straightens up, smiling smugly. "My dad has this recipe for a miracle hangover cure. Granted it's absolutely disgusting and will certainly test your gag reflexes, but it does the job and made my hangover disappear just like that." she says brightly, snapping her fingers together.

_Ugh_. Santana's hand moves to her temple. _And just like that the headache's back._

"I can give you the recipe if you'd like for future use."

Santana shakes her head, every word out of the hobbit's mouth just making her headache worsen. If she didn't know any better she'd swear she was allergic to the girl.

Maybe she was.

She should really look into it. It could be like a legit thing.

And then maybe she could get a medical marijuana prescription out of it.

That's be amaze-balls.

"Sorry but not sorry, Berry. I can't deal with you sober, let alone alone hungover." Santana declares, rising from her seat. "C'mon, Q." She nods at the blonde. "Let's blow this popsicle stand and find Britt."

Nobody would care if they left anyways - hell half the kids in here already ditched. And since Mrs. Hagberg wasn't waking up anytime soon, not unless she got word back from the producers of Hoarders (apparently she was gonna be on an episode), there was no point in staying.

Fortunately they still had some lunch time to spare.

"Oh, wait." Rachel stands suddenly as they get ready to leave, apparently remembering something important. "Before you go you should know I'll be sending you both a written estimate of the damage done to my room during er, Saturday's festivities. I don't mean to do this out of spite but the damage was quite extensive and my Patti LuPone bust alone cost—"

"What the fuck are you talking about, troll?" Santana interjects, both clueless and severely annoyed.

Rachel shifts her stance, hesitating under their expectant gazes for a brief moment. "You two were the only ones seen in my room that night, I know this because I asked the others, and while I admit most of Saturday night is still a bit hazy, I do distinctly remember walking in on you two making out on _my_ bed."

Santana stares at the girl blankly, unsure if she just heard right or if her headache was just making her delirious.

It had to be the latter. Berry couldn't have just said that. _Her and Quinn?_ As if—

"Look I'm not bringing this up because I want to hear the details or anything like that." Rachel assures, trying to bypass her own discomfort. "Frankly I'm probably better off not knowing what it is you two did after I left that caused the mess in my room, but I digress. I am simply looking for reparation for the damage done. Aside from my broken Patti LuPone bust, some of my sunglasses are missing and I found several of my sweaters stretched out beyond their size in the chest area." she adds, eyeing Santana specifically, obviously miffed.

Now normally Santana would have at least smirked at that comment, because _hell yeah she was totally blessed _in that area, but all she could do at the moment was scoff her incredulity. "What the fuck have you been smoking, hobbit?"

Her gaze flickers to the side to exchange a look with Quinn but the blonde doesn't catch it, apparently still in the midst of processing this new information herself.

"Oh come now, Santana." Rachel sighs, nearly rolling her eyes. "You can't play dumb with me. You two were all over each other and you know it. The proof of which is underneath Quinn's scarf." she says, pointing directly at the side of Quinn's neck.

Santana follows the hobbit's finger and lifts her gaze only to quickly avert it the second she and Quinn make eye contact.

It can't be. No way. Just, no. That's the most insane thing she's ever heard of.

_I think I'd fucking remember if I made out with my best friend, _she internally scoffs, shaking her head to herself.

...

Right?

—

To say things got weird after that would have been a _major_ understatement.

And not just for the rest of the day, but for the days that followed too.

Santana hated it but what could she do?

Apologize? They don't even know what really happened. All they had was the account of one drunk ass hobbit and a mysterious hickey. And hell for all they knew nothing happened. Berry could have been making shit up to fuck with them or simply been mistaken.

But even if something had happened between her and Quinn… okay, so what? They were both drunk out of their minds so it's not like it meant anything. No big deal.

Right?

So why can't Quinn look her in the eye anymore?

And why can't Santana?

Deep down Santana knows she should like say something – _what_ _exactly_ had still yet to be determined – but she didn't want to make things weirder by bringing it up.

The safest bet would be to just keep her mouth shut and wait things out. Eventually all this would blow over and they'd soon forget about why they were being weird in the first place.

Yeah.

But in the meanwhile Santana still wanted to know what the actual fuck went down that night. It was starting to drive her nuts that she couldn't remember anything.

Okay that's a lie. She was starting to remember _some_ stuff, but it was all useless, non-Quinn related crap. Like helping Brittany draw a sharpie penis on the abs of a passed out Mike Chang or nearly peeing herself when Mercedes snorted soda out of her nose from laughing too much.

It was really fucking annoying. She was so desperate to figure out what the hell happened, that she actually looked online for ways to jog her memory. It was super lame, she knew, but she needed to do something about it.

As advised she'd looked at all the photos from the party that were on Facebook, hoping it would bring about some forgotten memory, but that didn't do shit for her. Then she tried writing down what she _did_ remember, figuring if she reflected back on that night she'd remember what she had forgotten.

That didn't work either.

She also read that a good night's sleep could "trigger an increase in memory and motor skills".

If it wasn't for the fact that she's been incapable of sleeping lately, she would've had the most hope in that one actually working.

Yeah, just when she thought she'd gotten past these bizarre dreams, they come back tenfold and as ambiguous as ever. Only difference was lately these dreams were sticking with her, whereas before the memory of these dreams faded fast on her, evaporating before she could properly pin them down, leaving her with only vague bits and pieces.

Granted they still didn't make any sense, but at least she could more or less remember them now.

She kind of wished she didn't though. Having to deal with Quinn being weird in real life was one thing but to have to deal with her being weird in her dreams too was a whole 'nother.

And why the hell did she keep calling her 'Red'?

Does she look like a fucking _ginger?_

"Santana?"

Snapping out of her daze, Santana turns her head to find her grandmother staring at her with a raised brow. "You keep chopping away at that onion like that and there won't be anything left to use."

Santana drops her gaze to the cutting board she had in front of her and sighs. The pieces of onion she was supposed to cut up for the salsa were beyond tiny. "Lo siento."

Without warning her abuela grabs her chin and forces her gaze forward. "You look tired, Santana." she says, inspecting her face closely. "Are you not getting enough sleep again?"

"I'm fine, grams." she assures, shifting her chin out of the woman's grasp. "Finals are coming up, is all."

With a shake of her head, her abuela goes back to heating up some tortillas on the stove. Santana more or less tunes her out as she rags on her coffee addiction, ranting about how it was not a substitute for sleep and blah, blah, blah...

The doorbell rings.

Santana, grateful for the distraction, sets down her knife so she could go and answer the door but her abuela beats her to it. Sighing, she quickly adds in the onions to the salsa and wipes her hands clean on a tea towel. By the time she makes it out of the kitchen, her abuela is still lingering in the doorway with Quinn and Brittany.

To be honest she's a little surprised Quinn even showed up given how distant they've been with each other these past few days. Quinn's barely spoken to her since Rachel opened her big fat mouth and every time they hang out together with Brittany, it's super awkward to say the least.

Overhearing her grandmother muttering something about her two friends being 'too skinny', Santana comes up behind the woman rolling her eyes.

At this rate they've got about sixty seconds before abuela starts shoveling as much rice and beans as she can down their throats.

"You girls could hula hoop through a cheerio!" her abuela exclaims like the typical dissatisfied grandmother that she is. "That will not do."

"You say that about all white people, grams." she sighs, resisting the urge to roll her eyes again. "And they understand Spanish so keep that in mind before you try insulting their size again."

"Everything I learned, I learned from the Taco Bell chihuahua and Dora the Explorer." Brittany confirms, shrugging off her coat as Santana comes up beside her to hang it up.

"And the Telemundo weather girls." she mutters under her breath, exchanging a knowing smirk with the now sheepish blonde.

Her abuela clasps her hands together, thankfully having missed that last remark. "I hope you girls are hungry."

"I'm starved!" Brittany nods, setting her purse down by the coat rack.

"Your whole life by the looks of it." Her abuela agrees, placing a hand on Brittany's shoulder and guiding her into the kitchen. "Don't your parents feed you?"

After they disappear into the kitchen, Santana turns back around to the other blonde who was still in the process of hanging up her coat.

"I, uh, brought cookies." Quinn says once she's done, bending down and holding up a platter of chocolate chip cookies. "I hope they're alright. I wasn't sure what kind to make..."

Santana smiles slightly, relieved that the blonde was actually speaking to her. "No worries. Dessert is dessert." she smirks, reaching for the plate. "Thanks."

During the exchange their fingers accidentally brush against each other and Quinn nearly drops the plate, startled by the contact.

Fortunately Santana has fast reflexes and is able to catch the plate before it fell. "Uh, you okay, Q?" she jokes, eyeing her with slight concern.

Quinn merely nods, her smile tight lipped, before moving past her to join her abuela and Brittany in the kitchen.

Santana follows her lead with a sigh.

_This was gonna be a long ass night._

—

About an hour later...

"Abuela, if you force feed my friends to death, Imma be pissed." Santana warns, looking up from her food only to find her grandmother forcing yet _another_ helping of enchiladas onto her blondes' plates.

"I don't understand your generation's obsession with being skinny." her abuela sighs, as usual waving her concern off. "Men want a women who have a full figure, not a woman who looks like they come from third world country. You should embrace your curves."

Santana resists the urge to roll her eyes. "It's not about being skinny, grams. It's about living past twenty-five." She shakes her head in disbelief as her abuela picks up the rice and beans. "God, quit making them eat! They've had enough already!"

Quinn and Brittany for their part were valiantly trying not to look as stuffed as they undoubtedly felt.

"But we'd love to take some home for later if that's alright." Brittany pipes up, not wanting to insult the older woman.

"Of course, mija." her abuela says, taking their leftovers to put it in to-go containers.

Santana just shakes her head. Quinn and Brittany were gonna leave here with about a month's worth of food, that's for sure.

"So, do you two have boyfriends?" her abuela asks, without any preamble whatsoever when she finally returns to the table.

Santana slams her fork down incredulously. "Seriously?"

"What? I'm curious." her abuela shrugs, unsurprisingly seeing nothing wrong with the question. "Beautiful girls like them are sure to have no problem getting dates."

"That doesn't mean it's okay for you to stick your nose in their business." she scowls.

"It's okay, Santana." Brittany casually interrupts, before responding, "I'm single and ready to mingle, abuela Lopez."

"And what about you, mija?" her abuela asks, her gaze sliding over to Quinn.

"Abuela," Santana warns, shooting her grandmother a not-so-discreet look across the table.

"I'm just trying to focus on school right now." Quinn politely responds, smiling in that way Santana knew was her silently hoping it would be answer enough for the woman.

"You girls stay away from that travieso Puckerman though." her abuela warns seriously, pointing her fork at them. "He is no good. His mother should have thrown him away and kept the stork."

Santana can't help the eye roll that time. "Jesus, grams. Puck is not _that_ bad."

Her abuela turns her head, unwilling to listen. "He's a bad influence." she maintains stubbornly. "Liable to get the next girl he looks at pregnant."

"Thank god that's now how procreation works." Brittany chuckles...only to then stop and exchange a worried look with Santana. "Right?"

Santana shakes her head, smiling slightly. "If it was every girl in town would be screwed."

"Language, Santana."

Santana rolls her eyes, her gaze settling on the clock on the wall. When she sees the time, she perks up gratefully.

Hallelujah.

"Hey grams, we might wanna wrap things up now otherwise you'll miss your novelas." she says, nodding to the time.

Thanks to those god awful soap operas it looked like she'll able to get her blondes out of here before her abuela tries to force feed them another meal. Or interrogate them with further embarrassing questions.

Her abuela jumps up a little after checking the time for herself. "Ay dios mio! Vamos a ir al living room."

Wait, what?

Before Santana knows it, the crazy old broad is ushering all of them out of their seats. "Abuela, don't make us join you." she groans, as they're being cattled into the living room. Thankfully she manages to steal Quinn's cookie platter off the counter beforehand. "Quinn and Brittany don't want to watch your lame-o stories. And I sure as hell don't."

"Nonsense, Santana. You said it yourself they understand español. They won't mind."

"Yeah, I love Spanish telenovelas." Brittany nods, spinning around and plopping herself down on the sofa. "Son muy dramático." she chuckles, saying that latter part in a deep serious speaking voice.

_Ugh Britt don't mention that._ Santana silently whines. But too late, her grandmother was already inquiring which shows she watches.

No way she letting them go now.

Sighing, Santana plops herself down on the armchair, her back slouched against one armrest and her feet propped up against the other. She might as well get comfortable.

"Santana, siéntese!"

Santana rolls her eyes but doesn't look back at her abuela. "What? It's comfortable." she says around a mouthful of Quinn's chocolate chip cookies.

Which were amazing, by the way.

"Hey don't hog Quinn's cookies, Santana." Brittany says, reaching over and stealing the plate from her. "She didn't make them just for you, you know."

"Ay man." She turns her head indignantly. "What the hell, B?"

"Cállate Santana." her abuela orders, the novela starting up on the television.

Santana grudgingly reverts her attention to the screen. Within the first five minutes she can't help but scoff to herself. She doesn't see how these kinds of shows could appeal to anyone.

English, Spanish - it didn't matter. Soap operas were beyond ridiculous. Not to mention super repetitive. Every damn week it was the same shit - amnesia, coma, evil twin, cat fights, fake murder; then for some reason there's always at least one character with a fucking eye patch.

What was up with that?

Shaking her head, Santana whips her phone out of her bra. She spends the next ten minutes happily playing Angry Birds.

"Damn birds." she mumbles, struggling to massacre the pigs on one particular level. "I'll show you angry."

"Santana, dame tu cellular."

Hearing this, she loudly scoffs at her abuela, her gaze unwavering from the screen. "Porque?"

What the hell did she ever do? It's not like she even had the sound on.

"We are trying to watch la programa and your Nintendo is distracting." her abuela says, her impatience evident.

"It's a fucking Iphone, grams. Not a _Nintendo_." she says, mimicking her abuela's pronunciation.

"My granddaughter has no respect. No manners." her abuela sighs, her eyes fitting to the ceiling. "Where did I go wrong?"

_Oh hell. Here we go._

"Where do I even start?" Santana scoffs, finally looking over her shoulder. "For one you fed me nothing but rice and beans growing up. It's any wonder I didn't turn out the Mexican Honey boo-boo. Tapatío boo-boo."

"See what I have to put up with?" her abuela exclaims to the blondes sitting on either side of her, shaking her head. "I tried to sell her once but needless to say no one wanted her."

"Hilarious grams." Santana deadpans, rolling her eyes briefly. "You're like a brown Betty White."

Her abuela merely snatches her phone out of her hands.

But not before delivering a quick, discreet, smack to the back of her head.

_Órale_.

With no phone to keep her entertained, Santana resigns to the fact that she's gonna have to watch this novela whether she likes it or not. So she does, or at least_ tries _to. After a few minutes her brain checks out of the show completely, leaving her gaze to roam across the room.

Of their own accord her eyes find Quinn. The girl hasn't said much the entire evening, only speaking when spoken to, and hasn't so much as looked in Santana's direction. Or so she knew.

Looking at her now, Quinn didn't look particularly bored or interested in the television program.

The blonde must have sensed a pair of eyes on her because in that moment she turns her head. Quinn, realizing it was Santana, and Santana, realizing she'd just been caught staring at her, quickly divert their gazes, both their cheeks flushing.

"Ay he's a bastard!" her abuela suddenly exclaims, frustrated by the scene playing out on the screen. The douchebag male lead had successfully seduced the wife of his late twin brother after spewing some of the sappiest, bullshit filled dialogue Santana's ever heard.

"But a good looking one." Brittany says next to her, watching as the female lead all but rips off his shirt.

Meanwhile Santana couldn't have been any less interested, even if the scene was all kinds of wanky. It's a shame they were wasting such a hot girl on that queer as fuck actor. They could have put her with an equally hot girl and made the scene so much better.

Rolling her eyes as the two characters lie down on the bed and proceed to get it on, Santana can't help but let her mind wander.

_They're lying side by side on the bed, legs intertwined. Her hand trails down the blonde's side, gliding across the fabric of her dress. She squeezes her hip encouragingly while the blonde caresses her cheek, the tenderness of the gesture a stark contrast to the fervid kisses they found themselves exchanging._

_Santana slips her hand back into Quinn's hair and presses their lips together more insistently, ripping a sinful little moan from the blonde's throat._

_She could literally do this all fucking night._

_Santana's just about to guide Quinn onto her back when she catches a glimpse of something over her shoulder, watching them. She makes a dissatisfied sound then, realizing what it was._

_Fucking hell._

_"What's wrong?" Quinn asks breathlessly against their lips. Santana kisses her deeply for a moment before pulling away with a wet smack. Huffing slightly, she nods over at the ceramic bust on Rachel's nightstand._

_She was finding it increasingly hard to her get her mack on with Patti LuPone glaring her down judgmentally._

_Quinn looks over her shoulder but doesn't think anything of it. "Just ignore it." she whispers, cupping her cheek and redirecting her attention with a kiss._

_Santana sinks into the kiss with a sigh and deepens it...only to pull away after a few seconds._

_God damnit._

_"I can't." she whines unhappily. She can still totally feel those ceramic eyes on them. "It's creepy as shit. Like Big Brother watching you." _

_Grumbling in Spanish, Santana grudgingly crawls over Quinn's body and reaches over to turn the ceramic bust around. But in her drunken struggle to do so, she only manages to knock it over and send it crashing onto the hardwood floor._

_"Santana!"_

_"Whatever." she dismisses without a second thought, turning back around and straddling Quinn. _

_Problem solved._

_"I'll buy her a new one." she mumbles, leaning down and capturing the blonde's lips hungrily._

_Quinn wraps her arms around her neck as she presses their bodies together, humming happily in response._

_Eventually Santana's mouth leaves her own. She trails her kisses down the side of Quinn's neck, lightly biting and sucking along, encouraged by all the delicious little noises emerging from the blonde beneath her._

_"Santana, you're going to leave a mark." Quinn whimpers, squirming against the thorough treatment she was receiving._

_The brunette pulls back only to scoff down at the blonde. "Does it look like I give a damn about that?" she asks, before ducking her head back down and resuming her ministrations._

_"Well of course you don't." Quinn grumbles, trying in vain not to sound like she was enjoying herself as much as she was. "You're not the one who will have to go into school looking like a leper."_

_"But at least you'll be a cute leper." she murmurs, kissing across the blonde's throat to lavish some attention on the other side of her neck. "'Sides people outta know who you belong to."_

_"I'll have you know I am not yours or anyone else's." Quinn slurs matter-of-factly. "I am free! I am the queen!"_

_Santana laughs against her skin before lifting her head. "Oh yeah, you're the queen huh?" she teases, now hovering a few inches above the blonde's lips. "Then what am I?"_

_Quinn smiles mischievously and takes the opportunity to turn them over. "You're my little wolf, of course." she chuckles, the Latina now beneath her._

_"Little wolf?" Santana props herself up by her elbows, frowning deeply. "Fuck that, snowflake. If I gotta be a wolf Imma be the Big Bad Wolf."_

_Quinn shakes her head, barely able to stifle a giggle. "You're not badass enough."_

_Santana's eyes narrow dangerously at that remark. "I'll show you badass, Fabray." she playfully growls, rolling them back over and pining the blonde beneath her again, intent on marking her up nice and good..._

Santana startles back to reality, finding herself back in her living loom, a Spanish commercial for Clorox playing on the tv.

What the fuck was that?

Did she seriously just...?

Oh God.

_Oh God._

Berry was right. She remembers now. She'd been hanging out with Quinn in Rachel's room, going through the girl's things, making fun of it and whatnot...then at one point Quinn had pulled her onto the bed and they'd made out periodically for like the rest of the night...

Santana turns away from that train of thought and her gaze unconsciously lands back on Quinn, who at the moment was talking to her abuela with Brittany.

Before any one of them could notice her staring, Santana quickly gets up, a sick feeling settling in her stomach. The memory of Quinn beneath her, meeting her every kiss and reciprocating in kind still lingered in her mind and it was all kinds of wrong - considering her abuela was sitting only a few feet away.

If she could see into her mind right now, she'd crucify her.

Santana retreats into the kitchen, needing a moment to herself. She walks over to the refrigerator and grabs a cold water to cool down her uncomfortable warm body. She gulps down most of the bottle, half wishing it was tequila. That would certainly help wash away the memory of her and Quinn getting their mack on, if for a little while anyways.

But then again that would be such a bad idea. Alcohol's what got her here in the first place.

Jesus. How the hell were they ever gonna come back from this?

"Santana?"

She jumps so high she nearly spills some of her water.

Quinn winces slightly, hesitating in the entryway awkwardly. "I'm sorry, are you okay?"

Santana just nods, forcing herself to stare anywhere but at her lips, which were suddenly all she could focus on.

Not cause she wants to kiss them or anything, she's sure.

"The, uh...show's over." Quinn murmurs, briefly gesturing back behind her. "Brittany and I are heading home now."

Santana watches her walk over and grab the leftover containers off the counter.

"So you want me to walk you home?"

The words fly out of her mouth, a force of habit. It's what she usually does after all...or at least _did_ before things got weird.

"It's okay, I can manage on my own." Quinn nods with a hint of a smile. "But thank you."

"Okay then." Santana finds herself saying, a little disappointed. "See you, I guess."

"Goodnight, Santana."

Santana plans to leave her to it, but at the last second she stupidly calls her back. "Quinn?"

_"I know we made out at Rachel's party and it's made things really uncomfortable between us but I feel like we should probably talk about before we stop being friends all together because I don't know about you but that would really suck and I like having you as a friend. And really I just want things to go back to the way they were."_

Is what she wants to say, but none of those words come out. Nothing does.

It's all on the tip of her tongue but for some unknown reason she can't bring herself to speak up.

Meanwhile Quinn has a curious expression on her face, still patiently waiting on her follow-up. "Yeah?"

"Uh...night."

Quinn looks at her oddly for a moment, as if she could sense there had been more she wanted to say but doesn't comment on it. "Goodnight." she says again, before leaving.

Meanwhile Santana stays where she is, left wondering when the fuck she suddenly became afraid to say what's on her mind.

—

Santana was both grateful for winter break and resentful of it.

Grateful because winter break meant no school.

Resentful because no school meant no Quinn.

And no Quinn made for an admittedly unhappy Santana.

Not because she missed the girl or anything, of course. That'd be super pathetic...

Santana shoves the dress she'd been contemplating back with a scowl. "Hey Britt, have you found anything?" Maybe she was having better luck with this than she was.

Santana turns around only to find Brittany gone.

Sighing, she walks over to the blonde a few feet away, a little disgruntled to see she was still on the phone. She's been talking to Quinn for the past twenty minutes, trying to get the girl to give them an idea of what she wanted for her birthday.

But Quinn, of course, wasn't making things easy.

"Quinn you have to want something." Brittany sighs, holding her cell phone in one hand while browsing the clothing racks with the other.

_"But I don't."_ she hears Quinn sigh over the speakerphone.

"I don't buy that." Brittany says, still talking to Quinn, but now looking at Santana. She mouths the words, "_Find Anything?_"

Santana just shakes her head.

"C'mon, Quinn." Brittany whines, reverting her attention. "Just me something to work with. A pair of heels? A purse?"

_"Brittany you already gave me my birthday present, remember? That ball of fur we lovingly call Marshmallow?"_

Brittany smiles fondly but shakes her head. "He doesn't count."

_"Brittany I honestly don't want anything. I'm good."_

Santana can't help but roll her eyes. Cause, seriously? Who the fuck doesn't want free presents?

"Tell her if she doesn't pick something she's gonna end up with something lame like argyle socks." Santana warns from across the way.

Brittany turns her head and holds out the phone to her. "Wanna talk to her yourself?" she questions, covering part of the phone so Quinn couldn't hear.

Santana shakes her head, waving the idea off, and turns back to the clothes.

Needless to say Santana and Quinn were avoiding each other for the moment, like most friends who share a drunken hookup do.

Not that it bothered Santana.

Because it didn't.

She liked having her one on one time with Brittany back.

One blonde was just fine for her, thanks.

_"Look, Brittany, I have to get going."_ Santana hears Quinn says suddenly. _"We're getting busy."_

Over break Quinn's been volunteering at the animal shelter with Brittany and she was there now, picking up an extra shift.

(The animal shelter was just one of the many excuses she uses when trying to get out of hanging out with them, er _with Santana_, she should say).

"See you you later, Quinn." Brittany says before hanging up, where she then rounds on Santana.

"Okay, what the heck is up with you two?" she demands, exasperated.

"What do you mean?" Santana asks innocently, avoiding eye-contact in lieu of browsing through the racks of clothes.

Brittany comes up beside her and forces her gaze. "You guys have been avoiding each other for weeks. Nowadays it's like pulling teeth just to get you two in the same room."

"I don't know what you're talking about." she denies with a not-so convincing scoff.

And here she'd been hoping Brittany had been oblivious to it all.

"The only reason I'm just bringing it up because I've been patiently waiting for one of you to talk to me about it or for you to patch things up on your own, but since neither one looks to be happening any time soon...spill. Did you guys have a fight or something?"

Santana shakes her head, her gaze shifting away uncomfortably. "No."

"Well _something_ happened." Brittany huffs, regarding her disbelievingly. "You guys haven't been yourselves since like, Rachel's party."

Santana doesn't even have to say anything for Brittany's eyes to widen in realization. "Something _did_ happen at Rachel's party, didn't it?"

"Yeah, kind of." she relents, knowing there was no use denying it now. She was a crap liar when it came to Brittany. "Maybe."

Brittany quirks her brow. "What do you mean, kind of maybe?" she repeats, slightly amused before scoffing, "Don't you know?"

Santana rolls her eyes. "Okay, we kissed." she sighs exaggerated. "Well, actually we did more than that, we made out, but—"

"_You what?_"

Santana can't help but make a face at the blonde's bug-eyed expression. "In our defense we were super drunk and you of all people should know we don't do shit we'd normally do when alcohol's involved." she says quickly.

Something clicks inside Brittany's brain. "So _you're_ the one who gave her the hickey!" she exclaims rather loudly.

Eyes widening, Santana promptly shushes her, mortified. They were in a public place after all.

"Quinn said she couldn't remember who had done it when she showed me," Brittany starts in thankfully lower voice, "At first I thought maybe Sam had done it - I mean who else but someone with lips that size could do that kind of damage?"

Santana snorts at the very idea. Trouty mouth had nothing on her skill.

Kissing girls was like her forte.

"But then I thought it might be Puck since he's like a connoisseur of hickeys...now it makes sense." Brittany nods to herself. "That hickey is the size of Mexico."

"_Why it gotta be Mexico?_"

Brittany waves her off, still reeling with this new revelation. "I can't believe it. So _that's_ why you two have been acting weird." she says, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Yeah, neither of us had a clue until Berry mentioned she saw us kissing in her room." Santana mutters. "I couldn't remember doing it at first, but then that night we had dinner at my house, I out of the blue remember us making out on Rachel's bed."

Which she hasn't thought twice about by the way.

Nope.

Not at all.

"Does Quinn remember?"

Santana shrugs. "I dunno."

Even if they were speaking to each other, she highly doubted she could get Quinn to admit to remembering anything regarding that night's, ahem...activities.

"Well, did you tell her _you_ remember what happened?" Brittany frowns.

"Not exactly..."

Brittany swats her arm, incredulous. "Santana!"

"What?" she whines painfully, gripping her now throbbing arm.

"Now that you remember what you did you need to talk it out with her." Brittany says, like it's obvious.

Which it is, but Santana didn't need the painful reminder for that.

"And make things even worse?" she scoffs, shaking her head. "No thanks."

"_Santana_."

"Relax, would ya?" she sighs, now getting annoyed."This is gonna blow over eventually. And when it does it'll be like water under the bridge, so you know, no reason to bring it up."

"You know for two people so smart you two sure are idiots when it comes to communication."

"Shut up, B." she scowls, turning back to the clothes' racks.

Brittany rolls her eyes. "Whatever." she murmurs, grudgingly turning around too.

"So...Quinn's birthday." Brittany brings up after a short while of silent shopping. "What are we gonna do? It has to be epic."

Brittany was dead set on them spending Quinn's birthday together and even though she and Quinn weren't exactly on speaking terms, Santana still wanted the girl to have a good birthday so she had a few ideas already.

"I was thinking the three of us go to dinner at Tony's." It was one of the nicer restaurants in town and pretty much the go-to place for special occasions.

Brittany nods approvingly at first, then narrows her eyes, realizing her true intentions. "You just want some of their breadsticks."

"That may or may not have influenced my decision." Santana says, turning away with a shrug.

"Well you're only getting away with it because it's actually a good idea." Brittany informs, laughing slightly.

"Oh hey!" Her eyes lighting up, Brittany pulls a shirt out of the rack in front of her and turns it around. "This is so you!"

Santana looks over and frowns at the t-shirt that reads: _I'm hot. You're cold. Let's cuddle_.

"Uh, thanks, B but while I _am_ hot, I don't like to cuddle. Like at all."

Brittany just rolls her eyes at that remark.

"And we're supposed to be shopping for birthday presents, remember?" she reminds, walking away to search another part of the store.

"We're multitasking." Brittany corrects, following her with the shirt draped over her arm. "We still need to Christmas shop for each other anyways. So yeah, if you won't buy this, I will. You can wear it on those nights when you have cuddle time with Quinn."

_If_ they ever get back to that, Santana silently adds. Considering the last time she slept over at Quinn's was before Rachel's party.

Not that she thought about it much or anything. Or missed it...

Santana follows Brittany's lead and continues browsing through the store for potential birthday presents.

"Hey, I'm gonna go try these on!" Brittany says, lifting up a few shirts overhead. Apparently she was having better luck finding potential gifts for herself than for Quinn.

Not that Santana blamed her. Shopping for other people was tough and Quinn was no exception.

"Just remember the changing room stall is not a bathroom." Santana says in return, chuckling at the blonde's playfully indignant expression.

While Brittany heads on over to the dressing room around back, Santana looks over the rest of the store. She ends up finding a few dresses that were Quinn's style but wasn't certain of any of them.

Maybe she'll just get her a gift card.

When she's done looking around, Santana sits herself down by the storefront window and starts playing a game of Angry Birds on her phone.

Knowing Britt she'd have plenty of time for a couple rounds.

A few minutes into her game, she hears the bell above the store entrance ring but doesn't give it a second thought. Santana sighs, dismayed, when shortly thereafter, the _level failed!_ screen pops up on her.

"Stupid fucking birds." she grumbles to herself, lifting her head. "Can't do shit when you want them to..."

Her gaze wandering, Santana's words trail off when she sees _her_.

At first glimpse of girl's blonde hair, Santana's mind immediately goes to Quinn, but she isn't her much to her relief.

No, aside from the blonde hair - which wasn't even the right shade - the girl by the counter looked absolutely nothing like Quinn.

But was still really friggin' hot, in that chic rocker girl kind of a way.

Santana feels herself freeze up when all of sudden the girl glances her way. Like a deer caught in the headlights.

Uh...

As their eyes meet, a charming smile appears on the girl's face.

Meanwhile Santana can only stare and blink, until she becomes conscious of her staring wherein she promptly drops her gaze.

While pretending to be busy with her phone, Santana mentally chastises her behavior.

_Seriously, Lopez? Ugh, what the hell was that? Could you have been anymore obvious?_ _Where the hell's your game?_

"Thanks Dani." Santana hears the lady behind the counter say.

"No problem."

Expecting the girl to be exiting the store, Santana dares to lift her head. Her breath hitches for a moment when she realizes Hottie McHotPants walking up to _her_ instead.

Uh oh.

_Be cool, Santana. Be cool._

Ironically enough, in spite of Santana's whole well...lady gayness...lesbians were _so_ not her territory. (Which is definitely what this girl was judging by how loud her gaydar detector was going off).

And here comes the stinky underboob panic sweat.

Great.

"Hi." Santana hears herself say. It wasn't as confident sounding as she would have liked but at least she'd sounded somewhat casual.

"Hey." the girl greets back with a small smirk. Up this close Santana's now able to see that the blonde totally has a cute dimpled chin.

Santana lightly shakes her head at that thought. "Can I, uh, help you with something?" she asks, needing to distract herself before she started straight up ogling the girl.

"No, not really." the girl confesses rather sheepishly. "I'm just here to pass out some flyers. Thought you'd like one." she says, handing over a neon colored flyer to her.

Santana looks the paper over and her heart seizes for a split second. "This is for Neverland." she realizes quietly.

As in the gay bar.

"Yeah. The house band is planning on showcasing a bunch of new material this weekend and the owner's slashing prices to commemorate it. It's gonna be this big thing and really fun."

Santana lifts her gaze and finds the girl staring at her with that smile again. And maybe it's been a while she's been on the receiving end of this kind of attention...but _hot damn_. "You should come."

Her words registering belatedly, Santana hesitates, unsure of how to reply to that.

"I'm Dani, by the way." the blonde introduces, sticking out her hand. The sleeve of her blazer jacket goes up a little and Santana catches a glimpse of a tattoo on her arm.

Just when she thought this girl couldn't get any more attractive.

Heh.

"I'm Santana." she greets back, briefly shaking her hand. "I, uh, dig your name." she says, not at all awkwardly. "Do you think your parents like knew that you were gonna grow up to be a lesbian, giving you that name?"

The words come out intending to be a joke but it obviously isn't received as one judging by how fast Dani's smile had faded from her face. In all seriousness, she declares rather indignantly, "I'm not a lesbian."

Her eyes-wide, Santana fumbles with a response and ends up stuttering, "Oh uh, you just wear so much eyeliner..."

_Good going, Santana_.

"I'm so sorry!" she blurts out, mortified with herself. "I don't think before I speak sometimes."

Dani just stares at her, evidently still very much insulted, before cracking a wide spread smile. "I'm totally kidding." she grins, a throaty laugh escaping her. "I love lady parts."

"Dani is short for Danielle." she explains. "I never liked Danielle and to me Dani screams 'sapphic goddess' a lot more, don't you think?"

Santana's pretty sure she momentarily lost all brain function staring back at that awesomely suggestive smile.

"Y-yeah. Totally." she swallows nervously. "So sapphic..."

Jesus. Could she have sounded any lamer?

Man she really needs to fucking get out more.

Dani laughs again and Santana can't help but smile a little, oddly proud of herself. "You're cute."

_Be cool, Santana_. "Thanks."

"Anyways, yeah." Dani's gaze drifts back down, where she points back to the flyer in Santana's hands. "This weekend. The music's rad. Alcohol's cheap but good. It'll definitely be worth your while."

"Yeah, I'll think about it." Santana nods, trying to fight a smile.

"Well here's hoping you do more than just that." Dani grins, cheekily crossing her fingers, before laughing at herself.

"See you around, Santana."

"Yeah, see ya." she murmurs, a stupid smile now on her face as she watches the blonde and her _super fine _backside leave.

"Hey, Santana!"

Santana startles a bit, her head whipping around while instinctively shoving the flyer in her purse, out of sight.

Brittany, having just emerged from the dressing room area, waves her over from across the way, wanting her opinion on something.

Brittany gestures to the hot pink pants she has on once Santana stops in front of her. "Well what do you think?" she asks, slowing turning around to show off all angles.

Santana, still with her mind on Dani, shakes her head at a loss. "That's a really good question."

—

Things between her and Quinn weren't any worse but they weren't any better either. Quinn was still avoiding her and Santana, to be honest, couldn't get that Dani girl out of her head.

Every time she was alone in her room, she'd pull that Neverland flyer out of her nightstand drawer and stare at it. She kind of _really_ wanted to go, but she swore she'd never set foot in Neverland, at the risk of someone spotting her and it getting through to her abuela. But her curiosity was really eating at her these days and since things were so out of whack with Quinn and consequently their trinity hangouts, she was left feeling kinda lonely.

Nothing a little lady loving couldn't fix, right?

Plus she'd always wanted to hang around people who were more like her. Aside from Kurt, she was the only gay person she knew of at school, but even then they still didn't share the same preference. Sometimes Santana just needed a reminder that she wasn't the only one in the world with the lady feels.

And yeah sure Brittany was technically bi but it wasn't the same, and as for Quinn...for all Santana knew she was just a drunken mistake the blonde was trying her hardest to forget.

When Saturday finally rolls around, Santana's left with two options: either woman up and just go to Neverland or spend another night at Brittany's trying not to think of Quinn or what Neverland would be like.

Putting it simply like that makes Santana's decision fairly easy.

Before she wusses out on herself, Santana gets dressed for the night and walks out of her house. Thankfully her abuela was out tonight playing bridge at the senior center with the rest of the town's old bitties, including Mercedes' grandmother.

Santana heads over to the marina on the other side of town, wishing halfway that she didn't live so fucking far and that her heels weren't so damn uncomfortable.

The bar is crowded, unsurprisingly, and Santana hesitates for a moment by the entrance, terrified in that exhilarating kind of way. While maneuvering through the crowd, she strangely feels a lot like a high school girl going to a bar for the very first time, even though she's frequented the Rabbit Hole for ages.

Maybe because this was a whole different ballgame.

Santana gravitates toward the bar, needing a shot of liquid courage to get her going. She ends up right in front of the bartender - a smoking hot blonde with a cropped pixie cut. She had piercing blue eyes outlined by heavy eyeliner which made for one intimidating look.

She looked like she devoured baby lesbians like Santana for breakfast.

"Hey, could I get a shot of tequila?" Santana requests, her voice steady and loud enough to hear above the music.

The blonde looks her up and down, eyeing her doubtfully. "You got id?"

Santana hands her fake id over, unfazed. This she knew how to do.

The bartender's gaze flickers down to the laminated plastic and then back again. "Okay, Rosario Cruz from Ketchikan, Alaska." she drawls, her tone sounding anything but convinced. "Tell me about yourself."

"I once punched Bristol Palin in the face. I'm the reason she got the face lift."

The blonde smirks, more than satisfied with that response, and hands back her id. "I'll be right back."

Santana smirks to herself as the bartender moves to retrieve her drink and turns around to lean against the bar.

"Santana!"

Turning her head, she quickly locks eyes with the source of that familiar voice and smiles when she sees Dani moving through the parted crowd to get to her. "You made it."

"Sure did." Santana confirms, internally relieved she wasn't gonna have to stand around by herself any longer.

Dani eyes her up and down appreciatively. "You look hot."

"So do you." Santana nods in return, totally digging the badass glam look she was rocking.

"You having fun?"

"I just got here but yeah, I am."

"Well I'd totally ask you to dance but I suck at dancing." Dani confesses frankly, noticing how her gaze had traveled to the dance floor. "Can I buy you a drink instead?"

Santana looks back at her and grins. She's just about to say yes when Dani's name is suddenly called over through the microphone by one of the guys on the stage.

"Fuck. Sorry." Dani apologizes with a cringe, remembering she had prior responsibilities. "Can you like hold onto that answer for just a minute? I gotta do this thing real quick." she says, walking up to Santana and hopping up onto the bar next to her.

"Wait, you sing?" Santana says, watching the girl pull out a guitar from behind the counter.

"Play mostly but yeah, I sing too." Dani nods breathlessly, brushing back her bangs quickly. "I'm kinda the opening act."

Santana raises her brow, impressed. "Kinda?"

"Kinda. Sorta. Yeah." Dani laughs, shrugging modestly. "I'll see you in two shakes of a lamb's tail, okay? Try not to get seduced by any mermaids in the meanwhile!" she says, already retreating back into the crowd.

Santana just chuckles to herself, not quite sure what that all meant.

While Dani does her set onstage, Santana hangs out by the bar, enjoying the show from there. Every so often a girl would come up to her and hit on her but she played it cool, not promising anything, but not exactly shutting them down either.

What? It's not like she had anything - or anyone - holding her back.

This leads her to receive quite a few cocktail napkins with phone numbers on them, some even with dirty little messages written at the bottom.

Either forwardness was a universal lesbian trait or God was finally paying her back for all the shit he's put her through.

Either way she was fucking loving it.

"Hey, you were amazing!" Santana exclaims once Dani gets back to her, all flushed and sexy looking from rocking out. "Was that all original stuff?" She'd never heard any of the songs she'd sang before.

"Yeah. Wrote 'em myself." Dani nods, walking over and flagging down the bartender.

"Hate to be the loser that has to go on after you." Santana chuckles.

"Hey watch what you say they're my friends." Dani says lightly, before placing her order with the bartender. The blonde turns around and points to band setting up on stage. "Up there that's Elliot, the lead singer of the Lost Boys and my roommate. He goes by Starchild on stage though."

Santana covers her laugh with a cough. _Starchild_, really?

Once the bartender comes over with the two beers Dani ordered, she smiles sweetly at the blonde. "Thanks, Stell."

"No problem, sweet cheeks." the taller blonde winks.

Santana eyes them both before quirking a brow at Dani. "You banging the bartender, _sweet cheeks_?" she teases with a smirk.

"Occasionally." Dani shrugs, grinning mischievously against the mouth of her bottle.

Santana laughs. "Nice."

"What about you?" Dani wonders, looking over at her expectantly. "You bedding any hot blondes?" she smirks, wiggling her eyebrow suggestively.

Santana's smile fades, the memory of kissing Quinn senseless on Rachel's bed unwittingly resurfacing.

"Uh-oh." Dani drawls, catching her expression change.

Santana snaps out of her daze and frowns deeply, maybe a little self-consciously. "What?"

Dani points at her with her beer bottle. "I know that look. You've got lady troubles."

"What?" she scoffs, her cheeks warming up. Hopefully in this lighting Dani can't see it. "That's ridiculous."

"Don't even try, Santana." Dani smirks, narrowing her eyes.

"It's not like that." she sighs, shaking her head. "She's my best friend and lately things have been kinda weird between us. That's all."

"What did ya do?"

Santana rolls her eyes fleetingly, unsure of why she was even talking to Dani about this. "We kind of made out at a party."

"Kind of?" Dani snickers, her smile sly.

"Okay," she concedes with another eye roll. "We did."

"She have like a gay panic or something?" Dani guesses, taking another swig of beer.

Santana shakes her head unknowingly, although the thought had crossed her mind. "At first we were totally clueless anything had happened, then a so-called 'friend' of ours enlightened us, and yeah...that's when things got awkward."

Dani cracks a sympathetic smile before wondering, "Is she straight?"

"That has yet to be determined." she murmurs, sipping down her beer. "She's never really dated."

"Okay," Dani nods, before questioning, "Do you like her?"

Santana can't help but make a face at the question. "Why does everyone think that?" she sighs, frustrated. She can't help but turn away briefly; she was just so sick and tired of people assuming that.

"Well you just said you made out with her!" Dani exclaims, laughing slightly.

"I was drunk!" she scowls.

"Yeah, but you could have subconsciously wanted it. Haven't you heard the expression 'A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts?' Well that sometimes applies to actions too." Dani explains with a shrug. "It's probably why you guys kissed in the first place."

"That's ridiculous."

Dani just rolls her eyes.

"Riddle me this then: how often do you think about her?"

Santana stares at her questioningly. "What the hell kind of a question is that?" she scoffs.

"A valid one. I'm taking your deflection as _a lot_, by the way."

Santana finds herself shifting uncomfortably. How the hell did this happen? When did this night turn into a therapy session?

"I wouldn't say _a lot_." she murmurs, grudgingly. "Like a fair amount I guess. But Quinn's like my best friend, one of the few people I can tolerate. Of course I think about her more than other people."

"Huh. _Quinn_." Dani muses, tasting the name on her tongue in a way that immediately rubs Santana the wrong way. "She sounds hot."

"She's more than that. And knock it off." Santana frowns, lightly swatting the blonde's arm.

Dani playfully glares at her for a moment before posing another question. "If you could kiss her sober and she wanted you to, would you do it?"

"I...I dunno." Santana stutters, caught off-guard by the question. "Maybe?"

When she realizes what she'd just say, she quickly shakes her head. "Why the hell are we even talking about this?" she demands, slightly annoyed. "Didn't you ask me here so you could get your flirt on?"

"I'm all for a challenge but I know better than to get involved in a losing battle. This girl clearly has you hooked." Dani chuckles.

Santana frowns deeply. The girl could at least act a _little_ disappointed.

"Besides now that I look at you..." Dani stares at her closely. "You do look a little young for me. Are you even old enough to drink?" she realizes with a start.

Santana pulls back astounded. "What the fuck are you talking about? I'm twenty-one!" Without thinking, she promptly whips out her fake id and shows it to her. "Bam."

Dani takes one look at the laminated plastic and grins. "Aw, a fake id." she coos, taking the card from her. "How cute. You're giving a thumb's up and everything. Adorable."

"Shut up, Dani." she scowls, snatching her id back. "You're what? Twenty-one, twenty-two? Seventeen is not that much younger."

"Still jail bait." Dani shrugs with a slight chuckle.

Santana just rolls her eyes.

"Look, back to your girl." Dani sets down her beer and stares at her seriously, "Do you want my advice?"

"No, but I have a feeling you're gonna give it to me anyways. And she's not my girl." Santana adds under her breath.

"What you need is to talk things out with her. It might be uncomfortable at first but at least then you can sort through your feelings together."

Santana rolls her eyes. "What I _need_ is some legit alcohol in my system." she dismisses, setting her now empty bottle on the bar. She looks over at Dani expectantly. "You in or would you rather I find a new drinking buddy?"

Dani rolls her eyes and sighs, before raising her shoulders. "Eh. I won't fuck ya but I'll sure as hell drink with ya."

Santana meets her grin and together they clink their empty beer bottles. "Good enough for me."

—

Brittany reclines on her bed, her back pressing against her headboard, while her legs prop up her sketchbook.

In the back of her mind she knows it's getting late but she can't set her pencil down just yet, needing to finish these last few sketches.

For weeks she's been having these weird dreams and while they sometimes kept her from sleeping, they also inspired her, providing her with new subject matter for her portfolio.

Once she's done, Brittany pulls back and takes a good look at the drawing in her lap. Most of the time she gets so caught up in everything that she doesn't even realize what she'd been drawing. She often has so many images flashing through her mind at the same time that it's hard to say which one ended up on paper first.

This time she'd drawn a circular living space with no visible doors except for a single window. Several murals adorned the walls.

It's a room she's drawn before, she realizes with dismay, plenty of times. "Why do I keep drawing you?" Brittany whispers to the page, shaking her head at the familiar scene. You'd think after the first dozen sketches her brain would change it up and give her something else to work with.

She had half a mind to crumble up the drawing and throw it away but she knows she never goes through with it. This room, and all the drawings of it, were special to her for some reason.

"Well, Tubby." Brittany looks over at the large cat sitting on the edge of her bed and shows him her drawing. "What do you think?"

Lord Tubbington, as usual, ignores her, too invested in his favorite Scientology magazine to pay her any attention.

Brittany rolls her eyes. "You're a real good friend, Tubs." she says sarcastically, crawling off the bed, but not before kissing the tabby on top of his head anyways. Even if he was sometimes kind of a jerk, he was still a cute fluffy one.

Speaking of friends...Brittany walks over to work space and inspects the canvas she had set up on her easel. She's been waiting forever for the paint to dry, wanting to add a new layer on top of it and not have it bleed into the other colors. This particular painting was Quinn's birthday gift. She was going back and forth between two paintings actually, the other being the blonde's Christmas present.

Brittany figured that if Quinn didn't want her to buy her anything, she'd just have to settle for a homemade present instead.

One painting was of an ice castle up on a mountain top and the other was of a regular castle built on a fjord. The images made her think of Quinn for some reason so she figured why not just give them both to her. She could easily see them hanging in Quinn's apartment, the paintings working well with the girl's color scheme.

Since the paint was still not dry Brittany, not wanting to risk ruining the painting because of her impatience, decides to run downstairs and make herself a midnight snack.

Well, not so much 'make' as 'find'.

Her parents had a thing about her using the kitchen appliances without their supervision.

A couple of mishaps and suddenly she's a _hazard_.

After spending a few minutes rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, Brittany settles on the box of Lucky Charms. As usual, she pours herself a bowl full, then sits up on the counter with it in her lap.

Glancing down, she shakes her head at the seriously off marshmallow to cereal ratio.

Doesn't Lucky the Leprechaun know people only like the marshmallows?

He should really pay better attention to consumer feedback.

Brittany's in the middle of separating the cereal from the marshmallows when the front doorbell rings.

Frowning, she hops off the counter and walks out of the kitchen. _Who could it be at this hour?_

Brittany pulls open the door cautiously, half expecting some kind of suspicious character - only to be met with the sight of a very hot, blonde stranger...holding up a very familiar brunette.

"Hey, are you Brittany?" the blonde breathlessly asks, struggling with her friend.

"Goldilocks!" Santana slurs, her glassy eyes lighting up the second she locks eyes on Brittany.

"Hey, Santana." she greets back, slightly confused. "Oof!" Brittany stumbles back a step when the Latina all but throws herself at her.

_Woah, drunk Santana._

"I'm Dani and I'm really sorry about this," the blonde hastily starts, "She drank more than I realized she could handle and then she wouldn't let me take her home. I mean not like_ that_." she amends quickly, shaking her head. "I'm not. I don't. She wanted..."

Figuring the girl just meant Santana didn't want to be taken to her house (her abuela), Brittany just nods. "It's okay, but thanks for not ditching her and making sure she got home safely." she says, sending a small appreciative smile her way.

"Yeah no problem."

"Well...night." Brittany says awkwardly, knowing she had to get Santana up to her room before her parents woke up from all the noise.

"By Dani!" Santana waves over her shoulder. "Thanks grrrl-friend!"

Brittany closes the door behind her. "Gotta be quiet, S." she whispers, keeping the brunette's arm around her neck while they head up the stairs.

By the time they reach her bedroom, Brittany's slightly out of breath.

_Man, I should probably work out more_, she thinks, tiredly depositing Santana onto her bed, much to Lord Tubbington's chagrin.

She's just glad her parents were heavy sleepers, otherwise they'd both be screwed.

"Britt," Santana props herself up by her elbows and drunkenly beckons her closer. "C'mere."

"What is it, S?" she sighs.

"You should have seen me, B." Santana slurs, a lazy grin making its way across her features. "I was up to my ears in sapphic goddesses..." she says, having trouble pronouncing the plural. "It was amazing."

"Where on earth did you go?" she wonders, leaning down to help the Latina with her heels.

Santana shakes her head, smiling like a child with a secret. "Neverland." she eventually reveals, whispering it behind her hand and giggling.

"Neverland?" Brittany repeats, unsure if she heard right. "But you said you'd never be caught dead in a gay bar cause that's exactly what you'd be if your abuela found out - dead!"

Santana snorts uncaringly and reaches into her purse. "Who cares about death when I gots all these numbers?"

The Latina pulls a bunch of cocktail napkins out of her purse and throws them up in the air like confetti, before flopping back on the bed. "I danced. I drank. I conquered. The Almighty Snix for the win. Woot-woot!"

Brittany shakes her head and laughs, unable to help herself.

"The ladies love me, Britt." Santana mumbles, allowing the blonde to pull her up so she could get out of her dress. "Like Xena."

"I'm sure they do, San." she nods, sitting the brunette back down once her dress is off so she can find her some pajamas.

Grabbing a cotton t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts, Brittany turns around, only to find Santana with a trembling bottom lip.

_Uh-oh._

Weepy girl drunk Santana didn't always come out, but when she did...as Santana would say, _Órale_.

She rushes over to the girl, concerned. "Honey what's wrong?"

"I miss my snowflake." Santana sniffles only to burst out crying a second later.

"Quinn? She hasn't gone anywhere, sweetie." Brittany delicately reminds, wrapping a comforting arm around the girl. "You just have to talk to her."

"I can't." Santana wails.

"Why not?" Brittany leans against her head and begins to stroke her arm up and down soothingly. "Why is it so hard?"

"Because she hates me now." Santana continues to cry, her body wracked with sobs.

Brittany just sighs. "San, Quinn doesn't hate you." She's more like confused probably.

Confused and in denial just like Santana.

"What on earth would make you think that?"

"Because it's true." Santana moans stubbornly, now burying her face into Brittany's t-shirt. "I can't remember her and she hates me because of it."

"What do you mean you can't remember her?" she frowns, not understanding. "You mean you can't remember the party? I thought you said you did."

"Not the party." Santana groans, pulling back with a shake of her head. "I hate it so much. My stupid stupid brain. How can I ever deserve to be with her if I can't remember shit?"

"So you're saying you want to be with her?" Brittany has to clarify, hope swelling in her chest.

_Hello, now they're getting somewhere!_

"She's _my_ snowflake." Santana grumbles, flopping down on the bed face first, reminding her a lot of Lilo from _Lilo &amp; Stitch_. "I never stopped wanting her."

"Does this mean you're gonna talk to her?"

Santana shakes her head, her voice muffled. "She won't listen to word I have to say."

"That's not true, San." she says gently, stroking her hair. "That's not true."

Finally Santana turns her head toward her, watery eyes and all. "I just want her back, Blondie." she sighs, sounding unexpectedly sober.

"Then you'll get her back." Brittany gently assures.

Santana lifts her gaze, looking adorably vulnerable. "Promise?"

"Promise." she nods, her smile soft. "You just need to stop being so stubborn." she says, lightly squeezing the girl's nose between her fingers.

"That's what Dani says." Santana slurs, crinkling her nose, and yawning tiredly.

Brittany can't help but purse her lips at mention of the new blonde. She didn't know what exactly Santana's relationship with Dani was like, or if they hooked up tonight, but she figured that if Quinn was still on Santana's brain, she shouldn't worry too much about it.

Brittany shakes her head to herself and helps the barely conscious Latina climb into bed.

_Why is it that people are always so oblivious when it comes to love?_

Brittany turns off her lights and sighs, this thought lingering in her mind.

All she knows is that if those two idiots she lovingly called friends didn't work things out soon, she was gonna lock them both in a closet and leave them there.

That always seems to work in movies.

—

You'd think after everything that happened at Rachel's party, Santana would know better than to go out and let herself get drunk again.

But in her defense it's not like she had intended to get drunk. She'd just wanted to have a good time — which as she would find out required a lot more alcohol as the night wore on.

Not because Dani or her friends were boring or anything. They were awesome. And getting hit on more times than she could count was awesome too.

Or, at least it _had_ been, until the guilt started to seep in.

It was ridiculous, she knew, since she had nothing absolutely nothing to feel guilty about but however illogical it was, she felt it anyways and it only worsened the longer she was there. Which had led her to push the feeling down with as much alcohol as she could.

In the back of her mind she'd known it had something to do with Quinn but had refused to acknowledge it.

Quinn wasn't her girlfriend. Hell they were barely even friends these days.

Still it had gotten to the point where she'd catch herself comparing every girl who came up to her to Quinn.

Hair - wrong shade of blonde.

Eyes - not green enough.

Smile - all wrong.

The list just went on.

Santana, for her part, had fought stubbornly against these thoughts and the pang of guilt brought on whenever she tried to ignore them, but it was no use.

The morning after saw the return of that sick feeling, and it wasn't just because of the alcohol. She'd woken up feeling a hella dirty, almost like she'd cheated. It was a feeling her hungover self so didn't want to deal with but one she found herself contemplating anyways while she was sobering up in Brittany's shower.

It wasn't long after that Santana experienced a moment of clarity, where she was able to see past her own pigheadedness and instead see things for what they were.

It wasn't not some big, over dramatic, eye-opening revelation. Just her conceding to what she'd been stupidly denying this entire time.

That she had non-platonic feelings for Quinn.

A conclusion that admittedly took her a while wrap her head around but one that was hard to deny after her night at Neverland. After all if not even a night with hot willing lesbians could make her forget about Quinn, then she must really have it bad.

And as much as she hated to admit she'd totally been in denial this whole time, it all fucking made sense.

(Which just made things that much more embarrassing for her).

If she didn't have feelings for her why else would she replay all those instances when they kissed at the party, and wonder if she'd ever get to do it again?

It's a fact that scared the hell out of her to be honest. Not because she didn't want it to be Quinn, she just...didn't know what know what to do with that now.

If she were to ever tell the blonde how she felt and she didn't reciprocate, what was left of their friendship would be flushed down the toilet for sure.

But then again Quinn had been the one who started it right?

_"I wanted you to kiss me."_

Quinn had said it herself that night on Rachel's porch. So, maybe, she felt something too?

Nah.

Quinn was drunk. She didn't know what she was doing.

Or did she?

One kiss could easily pass as a drunken mistake, but it hadn't just been _one_ kiss. Not on the porch, or in the bathtub, or in Rachel's room...

So they had to have both wanted it on some level, right?

No, Quinn totally regrets what they did at the party. If she didn't she wouldn't be shutting Santana out like this, refusing to look at her.

Which means she's not interested.

Which means Santana's screwed if these feelings don't go away soon.

While Santana does her best not to dwell on that fact, she's completely oblivious to the girl standing next to her, trying to get her attention.

"Santana?"

"SANTANA!"

Santana startles a bit, effectively yanked out of her inner thoughts by her name being yelled right in her ear. "What the hell, wheezy?" she glares, scowling at the shorter girl who'd probably just done irreversible damage to her ear. "It is way too early for your wailing."

"Well I wouldn't have to yell if you hadn't spaced out." Mercedes calmly sighs, rolling her eyes a little.

"Whatever."

Santana turns her head dismissively and steps forward when she hears her name being called by the barista.

The Coffee Hut was the closest thing to a Starbucks this town had, which is pretty damn pathetic considering the two coffee houses were nothing alike, but Santana wasn't complaining.

They had strong, good tasting coffee and that's all she cared about.

"So, how long is your list looking?" Mercedes asks as the two of them step outside and start toward their second destination.

"As long as an elephant's dong." Santana murmurs, grateful for the scalding warmth she now had to combat the bitter cold weather.

She was still pissed that her abuela was making her do this by the way. She hated grocery shopping this close to Christmas. Holiday shoppers were a fucking nightmare.

Fortunately for her, Mercedes was stuck doing the same for her family and her dentist of a father was letting her use the family car. This fact alone was the reason Santana insisted they come shop together, interested only in the storage space the Jones' car provided.

No way she was lugging eight bags of groceries all the way home in the snow.

Mercedes glances over at her after they cross the street and walk up to the market entrance to get carts. "You look tired. Late night?" she guesses.

"You could say that." Santana nods evasively, yanking a shopping cart free from the bunch with one hand.

She may not be in denial anymore but she was still confused as fuck. And those stupid Quinn dreams she kept having really weren't helping any.

"Another night of drinking at Neverland?" Mercedes chuckles, smirking back at her knowingly.

Santana's head swivels around so fast that she manages to choke on her coffee in the process. "How the fuck did you know about that?" she demands quietly, her eyes horrified.

"Brittany." Mercedes casually says, pushing her cart through the automatic doors. After noticing Santana's murderous expression, she rolls her eyes at the girl. "Relax. I'm not gonna tell anyone. I could care less what you do there. Or _who_ you do."

Her cheeks still inflamed, Santana snatches a roll of aluminum foil off the display, with half a mind to whack the shorter girl senseless with it.

Mercedes walks over to the refrigerated aisle and grabs a few necessary items. "So how's your break going?" she asks curiously, scrutinizing the expiration date on the milk before walking back over her cart.

"It's going." Santana mutters, looking down at her abuela's list.

Mercedes sets her things down and lifts her gaze hesitantly. "I hear things have been a little weird between you and Quinn...something happen?"

Though her body tenses, Santana wills herself not to snap at Mercedes for prying. She'd figured the gossip hungry heifer would eventually try and get the lowdown (though how the hell she knew about Quinn and her in the first place was beyond her).

"And that's any of your business why?" she asks as calmly as she can, grabbing three different cheeses off the shelves.

Mercedes rolls her eyes. "I'm just trying to make conversation." she sighs. "Whether you agree with me or not, I consider us friends. I'm here if you need to talk."

Santana pushes her cart around the corner, suddenly regretting this whole shopping together idea. "Yeah well I don't."

"Is it about what happened at Rachel's party?" Mercedes' dares ask, squeezing her cart through the narrow aisle so she could walk side by side with her.

Santana shakes her head to herself, her shoulder slumping in disbelief. _Seriously? She knows about that too?_

"What would you know about it?"

"Brittany says you two kissed at Rachel's party."

_God damnit, B_, Santana silently groans. "That girl really needs to learn to keep things to herself." she mutters, slightly irked.

Mercedes follows her into the baking aisle. "Hey it's not Brittany's fault." she says, feeling the need to defend the blonde. "Since you two eggheads weren't talking to her about your drama, she needed someone to talk with."

"Well I'm talking to her about it now so just drop it, okay?" Santana retorts, her patience starting to wane, not just with Mercedes but with this whole fucking outing. She fucking hated crowds and every mother, daughter, and grandmother in town seemed to be here grabbing sugar and flour. "Things are fine."

"The way you and Quinn are acting is affecting your friendship, which means it's affecting _Brittany_." Mercedes says, as if Santana wasn't already aware.

When she doesn't say anything in return, Mercedes shakes her head in exasperation and continues, "If you and Quinn would _just_ talk to each other..."

Santana cuts her off sharply. "Aretha, I swear to God if you don't stop now, Imma Snixx out right here and right now. I don't care. Just butt out and let me deal with my shit, alright? I'm a big girl."

"But you're not dealing with it, _that's_ the problem." Mercedes groans, throwing out her hands. "You're ignoring each other and trying to distract yourselves. You with Neverland girls apparently and Quinn with—" Mercedes stops herself at the last second.

Santana looks over at her suspiciously. "Quinn, what?" she wants to know, her eyes narrowing.

"Nothing."

Mercedes' gaze slips to the side, suddenly fascinated with the different kinds of vegetable oil.

"Wheezy, so help me God." she warns, in no mood for fucking games. "The things I will do to you I can make look like an unfortunate accident."

Mercedes sighs deeply. "Lord forgive for what I'm about to do." she murmurs to the ceiling.

Santana doesn't even have time to question that before the girl all but drags her to the produce section. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Queenie?"

Ignoring the jab, Mercedes stops them right in front of the bananas and discreetly nods her head to the side. "See that guy over there?" she whispers out of the corner of her mouth.

Santana follows her gaze and frowns, finding herself staring over at some pretty boy stocking apples.

"According to Kurt, he saw Quinn talking to that guy the other day."

Santana turns her gaze back to Mercedes, her brow still furrowed. "So?"

"So?" the girl repeats, slightly scoffing. "They were _talking_."

Even with the emphasis, Santana still doesn't get it. "So what if she was talking to him? She was probably asking if they had any bacon flavored produce. The girl's obsessed."

Although now that Mercedes mentioned it, of the few times Brittany had managed to convince Quinn into hanging out with them, snowflake had been on her phone a lot more than usual...

"You might be looking at your new competition." Mercedes warns, snapping her out of that train of thought. "Okay I said my peace. Now you go on and do your thing." she shoos, waving her off. "I'll wait over here. I don't wanna get any blood on me. This is a new jacket."

"What thing?" Santana glares.

"Your 'thing'." Mercedes sighs, resisting the urge to roll her eyes again. "You know where you get all green with jealousy and Edward Cullen possessive and go over and set homeboy straight."

"You did _not_ just make a Twilight reference."

And bitch sure as hell did not just compare her to Edward the Pasty Fucktard fairy.

"Shut up, Satan." Mercedes says quickly, slightly embarrassed.

"Hold on a second," Santana drags the girl back before she can shuffle out of sight. "We're not done talking. And for your information I don't do that 'thing', alright?"

"Are you kidding me?" Mercedes snorts, releasing a short laugh. "Just a few weeks ago you were picking bar fights because someone hit on Quinn. Puck said you smacked the guy down like the hand of god."

"Lotta girls go cray-cray during their time of the month." she defends...even though she hadn't been on her period at the time.

Mercedes shifts her stance and rests her hands on her hips, meanwhile staring at her incredulously. "You telling me you're just gonna let that white boy over there—" Her cheeks flaring up, Santana quickly pushes down the girl's index finger. The whole store didn't need to know they were talking about him. "—potentially sweep your girl off her feet and not do anything to stop it?"

"Why the fuck would I?" she exclaims as quietly as she can, well aware of the people around them. "For all we know _nothing's_ going on. And even if there was—"

"Even if there was you'd be cool with it?" Mercedes finishes, raising her eyebrow challengingly. "You'd be cool with Quinn holding hands with that boy, going out on dates with him, and kissing him? Maybe even doing a little more with him—"

Santana grits her teeth together, of course not liking the mental imagery Mercedes was throwing at her. But home girl didn't need to know the extent of it. "Shut it, Wheezy. Or I swear I'll..."

"You'll what?" Mercedes interjects, unfazed, knowing she'd successfully gotten to her. "C'mon, Santana." she sighs tiredly. "Just tell her how you feel. What are you so afraid of?"

"Nothing." Santana declares hotly, sharply turning her head away from the girl.

She's not afraid of anything.

Just, you know, fucking ruining things before they get better.

_If_ they ever did.

—

"Brittany you are not backing out." Santana practically growls into her cell phone.

She's standing in the middle of her bedroom, having just slipped on her heels, and Brittany has the audacity to call last minute and drop this fucking bombshell on her.

_"I'll make it up to her."_ the blonde says on the other line, her voice sounding like she had a stuffed up nose.

"Britt, you can't not go!" Santana exclaims, pacing around her room and gesticulating frantically. "Quinn's gonna think I set this up to be some kind of date."

Santana could practically hear the eye roll. _"She will not."_

"It's Tony's! It's got like that romantic atmosphere." she huffs in a quieter tone, not wanting to her abuela to come up and overhear anything.

The owner himself, Tony, serenaded people with that stupid _Bella Notte_ song every chance he got. "The three of us it's fine, but if it's just two, it'll seem romantic!"

_"You're being paranoid, Santana. And I'm sick."_ Brittany reminds before releasing a horrible sounding cough right on cue. _"I'd go if I could you know that!"_

"Power through it, B!" she pleads through a groan. "Drink some Dayquil or some shit."

She hadn't been looking forward to this evening when it was gonna be the three of them and she sure as hell wasn't looking forward to it now. "I told you not to go out and play in snow with those damn Giardi triplets."

"_I'm sorry, Santana_."

Santana narrows her eyes and sighs in frustration, the blonde knowing she couldn't possibly stay mad when she uses the sad puppy voice on her.

Damnit.

"Brittany, you are so gonna make this up to me."

_"I will."_ she readily agrees. _"Promise."_

"Yeah, yeah you will." Santana mutters, disconnecting the call without another word.

—

Santana's been standing here, staring at _her_ door, for the past five minutes.

Now she's only waiting because she'd gotten here earlier than she would have liked and wasn't sure if Quinn would be ready.

It had nothing to do with her being chicken. Nothing.

Pursing her lips together, Santana anxiously peers down at the phone. She's right on time now.

Santana shoves her phone back into her jacket pocket and raises a fist to the blonde's door, only to stop at the last second, realizing it would be weird if she just knocked out of nowhere. She had to make it sound like she just got here.

So she does that trick with the footsteps, starting gently at first and then gradually allowing them to sound more prominent.

Afterward Santana knocks on the door and takes a step back. Right away she hears the familiar sound of Marshmallow barking and of his eager little feet scampering across the room to get to the door.

Santana can't help but smile. As much as she hated to admit it, she kind of missed that furball.

When the door finally opens, Santana barely has time to say "hi" before Marshmallow launches himself at her, pouncing on her excitedly.

Apparently he'd missed her too.

"Hey furball." she greets all too happily, bending down and scratching behind his floppy ears. "Someone's gotten big."

"Hey."

Santana looks up and quietly straightens, those hazel eyes reminding her that she wasn't here for the dog. "Hey, uh, snowflake." she murmurs, shifting back awkwardly. "Happy Birthday."

For the special occasion Quinn had her hair in a fishtail side braid. A hairstyle eerily reminiscent of the one Quinn was always sporting in her dreams, only instead of having her bangs swept back, tonight they were casually pushed to the side.

Santana mentally shakes off the comparison. "You look good, Q." she swallows, nodding approvingly at the girl's creme cardigan and blue dress ensemble.

She looked really fucking beautiful, actually, but Santana wasn't about to make things weird right off the bat and say it aloud.

But she also looked a little tired too, Santana noticed, able to see it in her eyes. Was she still having trouble sleeping?

Quinn looks past her, and realizing she was devoid of her blonde counterpart, questions, "Is Brittany on her way or are we meeting her at the restaurant?"

Santana clears her throat uncomfortably. "Actually it's just gonna be us tonight." she says, her gaze drifting down to where Marshmallow was so ardently sniffing the brown paper bag she had with her. "Brittany's come down with the flu. She's in real bad shape."

Knowing what the furball was undoubtedly smelling, she lifts the paper bag out of his reach. Last thing she needed was him eating Quinn's birthday present.

"Oh," Quinn's brow creases in concern. "Does she need us to bring her anything?"

Santana returns her gaze and shakes her head. "No, I already checked. She says she has enough drugs to knock out an elephant."

At Quinn's silent nod, Santana hesitates for a moment before adding, "We can do something else if you don't wanna go to Tony's."

"No, it's fine." the blonde's quick to assure, even though her quiet tone wasn't all that convincing. "Unless you don't want to."

"No, it's fine." Santana agrees, feeling herself vigorously nod her head. "But you, uh, mind if I put this inside first?" she says, holding up her paper bag.

"Sure." Quinn steps aside and watches curiously as she heads over to the kitchen. "What is it?"

Santana returns quickly. "You'll find out after dinner." she smirks, bypassing the blonde on her way out.

—

This dinner, er _outing_ \- not date - is the first time in a long while they've been alone with each other.

So yeah, it's kind of awkward.

They had exhausted all the usual subjects - school, Brittany, work - by the time their drinks came along but fortunately the salad and breadsticks arrived shortly thereafter, giving them something to do other than just sitting in uncomfortable silence.

Santana hates that she let things get this bad - hates Quinn for it too. Several times throughout the evening, she built up the courage to say something abut it only to back down at the last second, knowing that getting into it here, with people around, probably wasn't a wise thing to do.

But she's really starting to lose her patience, especially every time she looks across the table and sees Quinn sending a text message under the table.

Santana didn't have to ask to know it wasn't Brittany she was texting.

After they finish their meals, Santana pulls the small box she had in her purse out, figuring now was a better time than any to give it to Quinn.

"Happy Birthday, snowflake." she says again, extending the gift toward her.

Quinn looks up from her lap, surprised at first, then obviously touched. "Santana, you didn't have to—"

"It's fine." she shrugs, cutting her off. "Not like it cost much anyways."

Nevertheless Quinn smiles gratefully.

Santana bites her bottom lip, watching with bated breath as the blonde unties the small ribbon and removes the box lid.

A short laugh escapes her as she lifts the laminated card. "Emily Stark." Quinn reads, smiling in disbelief.

"That's the name you said you'd use if you ever had a fake id." Santana replies, fighting a proud grin.

Snix for the win.

"Barely legal." Quinn nods, her eyes happily scanning over the card.

She stops over one part though. "I'm from Honolulu?" she questions, looking up at her, slightly puzzled.

"You always said wanted to visit somewhere warm." Santana shrugs, leaning down and sipping her water through her straw. "You can use it now if you like." she says, pulling back and nodding to the two empty wine glasses left on their table. "Order us some dessert wine." she jokes.

Quinn lightly shakes her head. "I love it, Santana."

Santana knows she means it because she's smiling that genuinely happy smile, the one Santana hasn't seen in like forever. "Thank you."

Encouraged by her response, Santana clears her throat and as casually as she can, brings up, "You know I was thinking after this we go to the movie house. They're playing some pretentious French flick from like the '60's." Her eyes fit to the ceiling briefly. "And well, I figure we can hide in the back and throw popcorn at the hipsters. You know make it fun."

Santana, seeing that Quinn's smile had faded and her gaze had dropped, stops.

"You actually want to see that movie." she realizes with a short laugh, the blonde's lack of eye contact saying it all.

"Maybe." Quinn shrugs, still looking down at the table. "And it's not pretentious." she mumbles.

"Okay, snowflake." Santana chuckles, grinning in spite of herself. "We'll go see it. Like, for real." she promises.

Quinn shakes her head, finally lifting her gaze. "I don't want to drag you to something you have no interest in."

"It's okay." she assures. "It's your birthday and I don't mind. As long as I can throw _some_ popcorn at the hipsters."

Quinn concedes to a small smile. "Only a little." she stipulates, not one to condone such behavior but knowing better than to stifle it too.

Santana grins in response and tips her empty water glass back. "What about Jujubes?" she inquires, now sucking on an ice cube.

"No those hurt."

Santana quirks a brow. "You know from experience?" she smirks.

"Yes considering _you've_ thrown them at me before." Quinn scoffs, glaring at her mildly.

Santana laughs at the memory - the last time the two of them had gone to the movies with Brittany. So long ago it felt like. "What? You said you liked them." she innocently shrugs.

"Yeah, when they're in my mouth not smacking me in the face."

"That's what she said." Santana snickers, grinning mischievously. Even in this dim lighting she could clearly make out the blonde's blush. "You gotta admit you_ so_ walked into that one, Fabray."

"Shut up, Santana." Quinn grumbles, her cheeks still tinged pink.

By the time the check's paid - to Santana's relief - things between them finally seemed to be back to normal.

That is until Quinn decided to change things.

Santana's signing off on their check when, out of the blue, Quinn quietly says, "I'm sorry I've been acting so distant lately."

Santana pauses for a moment, caught off-guard by the statement. She looks up and, after meeting the blonde's heartbreakingly apologetic gaze, realizes that she hadn't been the only one who'd been having a hard time holding her tongue this evening.

"I've been pretty distant too." she nods, closing the checkbook and pushing it aside. She wanted Quinn to have her full attention.

"It's just...Rachel's party..." the blonde trails off awkwardly, trying to find the words.

Santana nods understandingly. "Yeah."

She herself didn't even know where to begin with that.

"When Rachel told us what we did, I was just so—"

"_Santana?_"

Santana startles a bit, having been so focused on hearing what Quinn had to say she hadn't even noticed that one of the waitresses had stopped by their table and done a double-take.

"It is you." the blue-eyed brunette realizes, a grin spreading out across her features when Santana meets her gaze.

It takes a second before Santana recognizes who the girl is.

Elaine.

One of the bar waitresses from Neverland.

"Oh. Hey." Santana hears herself greet back somewhat uncomfortably. "You work here too?"

"Yeah, part time. I just started my shift." Elaine confirms with a chuckle. "This your girlfriend?" she asks, her smiling gaze drifting over to Quinn. "She's cute."

Internally panicking, Santana shakes her head quickly. "Uh, no. We're just friends. It's her birthday." she explains, suddenly hoping her cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

"Well happy birthday." Elaine smiles in earnest, to which Quinn just mumbles her thanks.

Sensing the blonde didn't appreciate the interruption, Santana opens her mouth to politely wrap up this conversation, but Elaine had already reverted her attention back onto her. "So when are you coming back to our neck of the woods?" she wonders, placing a lingering hand on Santana's shoulder. "You sure made _quite_ the impression, the rest of the mermaids can't wait to see you again."

Santana clears her throat uneasily. "I don't know, maybe after the holidays."

Elaine, thankfully, doesn't call out her noncomittance. "Well you should definitely stop by for New Year's Eve. It's gonna be a blast."

"Will do." Santana nods, biting back a sigh of relief when she hears some other waiter call for Elaine.

"Sorry, S, gotta go. I'll tell Dani you said hi. Nice meeting you." Elaine quickly says to Quinn before scurrying off.

Santana waits until she's for sure gone before sighing. Now that the chance Elaine would say something she shouldn't was gone, she could relax.

Not that Santana had anything to hide really.

She just didn't need Quinn hearing the details of her drunken antics.

When Santana shifts her gaze, hazel eyes are looking at her curiously.

"Mermaids?" Quinn repeats quietly, not understanding the reference.

For a split second Santana sworn she could've detected a hint of...jealousy?

Nah.

"It's a nickname for the waitresses down at Neverland." she briefly explains, mentally shaking away that thought. "They're into the whole Peter Pan theme down there. Girls are mermaids, guys are pirates..."

"Wait, you went to Neverland?" Quinn backtracks.

"Uh, yeah." Santana nods, awkwardly avoiding the girl's raised brow.

"I thought you'd never set foot in that place because of your abuela." Quinn says, frowning slightly.

Santana gets up so they can leave. "It was just a one time thing." she assures, really wanting to get off the topic. "This girl Dani invited me and it was kinda hard to say no. She's really cool. You'd like her."

"Yes, I'm sure." Quinn murmurs.

Santana could have sworn she saw a flicker of hurt reach the blonde's eyes, but it disappeared all too quickly for her to be sure.

Santana dismisses it without a second thought.

It was probably just the lighting.

—

Santana stops once they're outside on the sidewalk and turns back to Quinn expectantly. "So you wanna head over to the movie house now or maybe get some coffee first, or...?" she trails off, leaving the decision up to the blonde.

"Actually I'm really tired." Quinn says with feigned conviction, looking anywhere but at her. "I think we should call it a night if you don't mind."

Santana frowns questioningly. "You sure?" she checks, glancing at the time on her phone. "It's barely eight."

Quinn nods assuredly, her lips quirking with a hint of a smile. "But thank you for dinner, it was lovely. And the id."

"Are you sure?" Santana can't help but press. "I mean we don't have to go out. We can watch a movie at your place...or mine." she belatedly adds, seriously hoping the blonde didn't take up that offer. Her abuela would probably make them hang out in the living room, and then insist on joining them.

"Maybe some other time." Quinn politely declines.

"Well let me at least walk you home." Santana offers, trying not to sound too irritated...and disappointed.

_C'mon, snowflake_, she silently pleads as the girl noticeably hesitates, _Don't shut me out again_.

"That's not necessary."

"Well your place is going my way anyways." she reminds, looking in the general direction of her house. "So we might as well walk together."

Quinn follows her gaze and nods. "Right." she agrees, reluctantly, since she couldn't very well argue that.

They end up walking side by side in relative silence, not unlike the way they walked coming here earlier.

Only difference was the silence wasn't so much awkward now as it was annoying. At least for Santana.

"So, who's the guy?" she finds herself reluctantly asking, after catching Quinn out with her phone again sending another quick text.

After ten minutes, or however the fuck long they've been walking, Quinn finally turns her head toward her. "Excuse me?"

Santana rolls her eyes over at her in a sidelong glance. "You've obviously been texting someone who isn't me or Britt. So who is he?"

"Who says he's a guy?" Quinn frowns.

"Isn't he?" Santana quirks her brow.

"He is." the blonde confirms, her brow still furrowed. "But he's just a friend, if that's what you're wondering about."

Santana turns away with a shake of her head. _Great. Just great_. "That's how they all start out." she mutters, before sharply reverting her gaze. "Who is he?"

"He works at the market." Quinn answers casually, forcing her attention forward as they walk. "His name is Biff McIntosh."

Santana pulls a face, following her lead. "Like the apple?"

"His family owns the apple orchards in town." Quinn nods, pausing when the reach the corner. "So yes, like the apple."

"Bet he's proud of that fact." Santana scoffs under her breath. The swarmy shitface punk.

"He's nice." Quinn shrugs.

"He ask you out yet?"

Quinn shakes her head. "It's not like that."

"So _no_."

"I told you I wanted to try to make new friends, Santana." Quinn sighs, her irritation starting to seep through. "And I am. Just as you are it seems."

"Guys like that are only after one thing, Quinn." she says knowingly, leaning forward and trying to get the blonde to look at her directly.

"Not all of them." Quinn calmly disagrees, grudgingly meeting her gaze. "But even if they were I'm a big girl. I know how to say no."

"Yeah, but guys are morons." Santana points out in return. "They think 'no' means 'yes' and 'get lost' means 'take me I'm yours'."

"Biff is just a friend, Santana." Quinn sighs tiredly, turning around to regard her fully. "You're friends with Puck, aren't you?"

"So not the same." she scoffs, stopping in front of her.

"Why not?" Quinn demands, folding her arms across her chest.

"Because we only became friends after we stopped hooking up and realized we didn't really want each other." she says, her voice beginning to rise with her annoyance.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Why is it so hard to believe that Biff only sees me as a friend?"

"Because he's a fucking dude!" Santana near-yells, throwing out her hands either way. "Who thinks with his dick 97% of the time! Watch one of these days you're gonna be texting back and forth and then he's gonna randomly send you a pic of his weird, white boy Apple strudel and his little Johnny Appleseeds, asking if you want him to put it in your pie hole."

If Santana hadn't been so frustrated she would have probably chuckled at the way Quinn was balking at her apple analogies. "Well thanks for ruining apples for me, Santana."

"Just stop talking to him and it won't happen." she resolves easily enough. "But if you keep talking to him, I guarantee he'll eventually make a move on you."

"He's not like that." Quinn maintains as calmly as she can, even though it was clear by the look on her face she was anything but. "He just wants someone to talk to."

Santana stares at her incredulously. "Yeah, and then _bone_!"

How the fuck could she not understand that?

"I'm done talking about this." Quinn declares finally, sharply turning on her heel.

Her jaw tightening, Santana exhales deeply. It would be so easy to fly off the handle and Snix out, and it's not like it'd be unwarranted (the blonde most definitely deserved to face her wrath of words with the way she's been acting).

In spite of this Santana reins it in. It isn't easy but she manages. "Hey! Slow your roll, bitch." she calls after the girl, following after her. "I still have the rest of your birthday present at your place."

"I can open it myself, thank you." Quinn retorts, barely looking over her shoulder.

Santana comes up beside her and rolls her eyes. "Well good for you but I don't care." she drawls, beyond done with her attitude. "It's _my_ gift and _I'm_ giving it to you whether you like it or not."

—

Santana and Quinn enter the latter's apartment in a huff, still very much annoyed with each other.

As expected Marshmallow is all too happy to see their return but this time around Santana doesn't give the pup a second glance.

She walks straight into the kitchen and after searching the blonde's cabinets, pulls out a small dessert plate.

Quinn watches her move about her kitchen, still irked by her lingering presence but at the same time mildly curious. "Santana, what are you doing?" she sighs.

"Just sit down and close your eyes." she orders, her back still to the blonde. While Quinn grudgingly takes a seat at the counter, Santana reaches into the brown paper bag she'd brought earlier and pulls out its contents.

"Your eyes better be closed, Fabray." she warns, still in the midst of assembling everything together.

"They are in spite of my better judgment."

Santana rolls her eyes at the girl's tone and peers over her shoulder. True to her word, Quinn was sitting somewhat patiently across the counter with both eyes closed.

"Since you didn't want to order dessert at the restaurant...here." She sets the plate down on the counter and pushes it in front of the blonde. "The pièce de résistance."

Quinn opens her eyes and immediately looks down at what Santana had presented her with.

A Hostess snowball with a single lit birthday candle jammed in it.

"Happy Birthday, you frustrating as fuck snowflake." Santana says, her arms folded across her chest. "You're another year closer to kicking the bucket, congratulations."

Quinn doesn't look like she knows what to say. "Santana..."

"Don't you dare get sappy on me, snowfloat." she warns, not liking how her expression had softened. She was still mad at her. "Just make a wish and eat your damn Easter bunny testicle."

Quinn nods slowly, a small smile escaping her lips. "Thank you," she whispers anyways before leaning forward.

Like one usually does in this situation, Santana claps her hands when the candle blows out.

...but sarcastically.

Which Quinn totally catches. "Jerk." she playfully glares.

And fuck if her anger wasn't melting away. Damn her.

Santana shrugs it off and walks over to the refrigerator. "Here. One last gift." She pulls her package off the top shelf and lets the door close behind her.

"Para ti." she says, setting it down in front of the blonde.

Quinn takes one look at the package before lifting her gaze. "You got me bacon?" she questions, amused but nevertheless delighted.

Santana rolls her eyes. "Not just that." she sighs. "A lifetime's supply of _free_ bacon. Well, actually its only a year." she amends with a slight frown. "But yeah, as much bacon as you want, free for a year. I hooked you up at the market."

"Can you even do that?" Quinn wonders, eyeing her skeptically.

"I'm Santana Lopez." she scoffs, crossing her arms defiantly. "I can do whatever the fuck I want."

Quinn humors her with a nod. "Of course you can. Would you like a bite?" she asks, gesturing to her half-eaten snowball.

Santana wrinkles her in disgust. "No thanks." she declines with a turn of her head.

"It's delicious." the blonde tries to sway, holding the pink dessert up.

"To a white person who don't know shit about food, yeah, probably."

"Hey!" Quinn scoffs indignantly.

"No good food is ever pink." she maintains with careless shrug.

"Just try it, Santana."

"Me and the color pink have been in an argument for seventeen years, and I ain't making nice with it now." she grimaces, ducking out of the way when Quinn tries to feed the offending cake to her. "Nope. No me gusta."

"Fine."

Santana watches warily as the blonde slips out of her chair and proceeds to walk around the counter toward her. "Fabray..." she warns, stepping back a peg, not sure of what she might do.

Seeing Santana recede back makes Quinn falter in her steps, as if the gesture struck a chord with her. An unpleasant one.

Santana shifts her stance, seeing the sudden change in the girl's expression, and frowns accordingly. "Hey," she says, stepping forward and gently bringing her back.

Quinn looks at her and blinks, then drops her head in embarrassment. "Sorry." she murmurs, quickly shaking her head of whatever daze she'd been caught up in. "Déjà vu."

When Quinn finally lifts her gaze again, Santana finds herself swallowing hard, the extent of their closeness just barely registering.

From there a prolonged moment of eye-contact is shared and it leaves Santana feeling slightly breathless.

Part of her feels inclined to step back, but there goes those fucking hazel eyes again, keeping her rooted on the spot and looking at her in a way she wouldn't even know how to begin to interpret.

Santana would have found it completely irritating it she wasn't so transfixed.

It was almost like they were searching for something.

Funny how one minute her and Quinn can't seem to make eye-contact to save their lives and the next they can't seem to do anything but.

She tells the blonde as much, needing to lighten the mood before things got way too intense...again.

And just like that, within the blink of an eye, the moment was over.

While somewhat disappointed, Santana's left feeling most grateful when the blonde tears her eyes away. If Quinn had kept staring at her the way she was who knows what she would have done...

No. She _knows _what she would have done, that's why she had to put a stop to it.

"Um," Hearing Quinn's hesitation snaps Santana out of her thoughts. "Do you maybe wanna stay for a while?" the blonde asks tentatively.

Santana stares at her with the word 'yes' right on her tongue but keeps the response right where it is, a part of her worried that if she allowed Quinn to pull her right back in, she'd just be setting herself up to be pushed back out again.

Something which seemed to be happening a lot tonight.

In spite of all this though, Santana was finding it increasingly hard to bite back that 'yes' when those irresistible hazel eyes were anxiously awaiting an affirmative.

"That depends," she drawls, quirking her brow. "You gonna keep texting the apple picker all night?"

Cause if she was, Santana was so out.

"No," Quinn shakes her head. "You promise you won't badmouth him?"

"I can't make any promises."

"_Santana_."

"Okay. Okay." Santana rolls her eyes, conceding to a sigh. "Fine. But how about this, let's just not bring up Biffani Amber Thiessen at all, alright? I won't bring up him if you promise not too."

"Before I promise anything," Quinn gestures back to the glass container on the counter. "Do you want any apple pie? I'm only asking now because if I ask you later you'll just assume I'm trying to worm him back into the conversation."

Santana eyes it dubiously. "Is it made from _his_ apples?"

"Does it really matter if it is?" Quinn sighs.

"Uh, yeah." she scoffs, coming up beside the blonde for closer inspection. "I don't want his apples anywhere near your pie!"

Quinn just shakes her head and grabs a fork. "You're ridiculous."

"Am no—"

Before Santana knows what hits her, the blonde's whipping around and slipping a quick forkful of pie into her unsuspecting mouth.

Santana instinctively rears back and shoots the blonde a withering look. "What the fuck, snowflake?"

Quinn watches her chew. "It tastes good, no?"

To be clear Santana only swallows because she's too good of a friend to spit it out on Quinn's floor.

Well, _that _and because she knows the blonde would just make her clean it up if she did.

"That was literally the worse pie I've ever tasted."

"It was not, Santana." Quinn chuckles disbelievingly. "And you know it."

"Was so." To prove her point Santana picks up the rest of the pie pan and carries it back to the sofa. "In fact, it was so bad that I'm gonna finish me up this slice as to spare you the ordeal of having to eat it yourself. That's how considerate a person I am. You're welcome."

Quinn's eyes fit to the ceiling. "What a saint."

"I know, right?" she grins, leaning back and propping her feet up on the coffee table. "Got any ice cream?"

By the time Quinn finds some vanilla ice cream and puts it in a bowl, Santana's already eaten one slice and halfway into another.

"Santana!" There's a playful whine to her tone when she sees this, her brow furrowing adorably. "I never said you could eat my whole pie."

Santana chokes mid-swallow and coughs a laugh.

Quinn rolls her eyes, trying to distract from her now burning cheeks. "For goodness' sake Santana you know I didn't mean it like that."

"Still wanky." she snickers.

"Still my birthday." Quinn trumps with a smirk, taking her pie back.

As the blonde settles down next to her, Santana scowls. "Whatever." she scoffs, eyeing the girl dismissively as she takes a bite. "That's pie's gonna make you fat anyways."

—

Their plan of going to the movies forgotten, Quinn and Santana end up spending the rest of the night in the apartment, neither really motivated to go back out into the snow.

At some point, after they exhausted their interest in watching movies and television, they end up lying on the carpet in front of the fireplace. In between listening to Quinn's ipod, they talk about random shit and it's so pleasantly normal that it's almost like these past few weeks of ignoring each other never happened.

Still, in the back of her mind, Santana knew they had to talk about what happened eventually. They'd seemed to be getting on the right track at the restaurant but then they'd been interrupted, and since then Quinn hasn't given her any indication that she wanted to pick up where they left off.

Santana had thought about doing so herself but ultimately chickened out; she just didn't want to risk ruining the good thing they had going for them.

Staring up at the ceiling, Santana quietly hums along to the acoustic ballad currently playing through the blonde's speaker system. It was some folksy song she's never heard before but was one she found she liked. The singer's soft serenade was comforting against the silence.

When the song ends and a new one takes its place Santana shifts and sighs, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again. Judging by how dark it was outside it was pretty late. And while she was tired, she had no interest in sleeping.

Not when she knew she'd just be plagued with more dreams that would only add to her pent-up confusion and frustration.

She had more than enough of that already thanks.

It was seriously starting to become a problem. And she hated it. Hated the dreams, hated their familiarity—sometimes Santana found herself dreaming the same scenes over and over, and with Quinn included in some way. (And always in that same crazy blue getup, like what was up with that?)

She didn't understand it. These recurring dreams would play out like forgotten memories almost and then, sometimes, they'd change on her and suddenly she would have Quinn pleading with her to remember her.

Which begged the question, what the hell was she missing?

Santana, for the most part, remembered all that had happened at Rachel's party, so why did Quinn keep asking her that?

Ugh.

She's going around in circles here. She's been over this a hundred times already and it ever got her was more questions than answers.

Sighing in exasperation, Santana shakes her head to herself and closes her eyes. She stays like that for a while, willing her brain not to think of anything and just let the music drown everything back out again. The hand that isn't tucked behind her head continues its ministrations, her fingers lightly brushing through the blonde tresses of the girl who'd fallen asleep on her like an hour ago.

She doesn't remember how they got to this position exactly, with Quinn curled up beside her, head resting against her chest, but Santana didn't mind it.

It felt good having her close again. Felt, _right_.

Smiling to herself, Santana shifts her head and opens her eyes again.

Only to find a certain furball staring right back at her.

"The fuck?" Startled, Santana jerks back, not expecting Marshmallow to be right up in her grill, sitting patiently at her side and watching her like some kind of creeper dog.

Last she'd checked he was getting his zzz's on by the Christmas tree, Santana having worn him out when she was playing with him earlier.

And by 'playing' she meant pretending to throw his little rubber ball and watching him look around for it like an idiot.

Dogs were so stupid.

Anyways.

Santana narrows her eyes and blinks. "The hell do you want, dog?"

Marshmallow just looks at her with those big puppy eyes and whimpers.

Santana rolls her eyes. _Like she knows what the fuck that means_.

"Go back to bed, perro." she sighs, turning her head away from him dismissively. "Vaya a dormir."

Marshmallow whines pitifully, a small bark escaping him.

"Hey knock it off." she glares, warning him as quietly as she can. "You wanna wake the snowflake up?"

Marshmallow ignores her and continues his whimpering, jerking his head back to the front door impatiently.

It takes her a second before she realizes what was going on.

He needed to go to the bathroom.

"Okay, okay." she nods. That she could understand. "Calm yourself."

Turning, Santana grabs the pillows they'd been using earlier. Once she has them in place, she places a hand behind Quinn's head and slowly eases herself out from under the blonde, then gently lowers her head back onto the pillows.

All without waking her.

_Her skills are seriously unparalleled._

Like a Mexican ninja.

"Be right back, snowflake." she murmurs to the sleeping blonde before getting up.

Meanwhile Marshmallow is stamping his paws, moving around in what Santana assumes is the doggy version of a potty dance.

"Hold on. Hold on." she mutters, walking over to the door and grabbing her boots. "Don't get your juevos in a knot."

While she shrugs on her coat, and ignores the fact she was only in sleep shorts and a cotton tee, Santana looks around for his leash.

"Whatever." she mutters when she doesn't see one in plain sight. "C'mon, dog." she grumbles, pulling open the door and letting him walk through. "You're going commando."

"You better not try any funny business and run off, perro." she warns, hurrying down the stairs along side the eager pup. "Cause I will catch you and then I will have no problem selling you to the fucking Koreans. They are not above eating dog."

Santana yanks open the front door, allowing Marshmallow to barrel through and follows him over to the nearest tree. "You got thirty seconds, dog." she says, biting back a swear as the cold hits her full force. "If you freeze your fur off out here I'll never hear the end of it from your mom. And no me gusta that shit."

A few minutes later, after Marshmallow sniffs around and does his business, Santana all too eagerly follows him back to the apartment complex.

"Fucking balls, man." she hisses, quietly shuffling inside. Two minutes outside and she's pretty sure her nipples had frozen solid.

If they end up breaking off before they can thaw she's gonna be super pissed.

Cause she sure as hell ain't spending her Christmas bonus on nipple replacements.

Santana closes the door behind her and shrugs off her coat, while Marshmallow returns to his little bed. As she kicks off her boots she hears another soft whimper.

_God damnit_. She throws her head back in a silent groan.

Now what does that fucker want?

It isn't until Santana looks over her shoulder and hears the sound again that she realizes it wasn't even coming from Marshmallow.

Her brow furrowing, Santana returns to the living room and goes over to Quinn's sleeping form. The girl was no longer sleeping peacefully, she noticed, now shifting and murmuring in her sleep.

Santana kneels down beside her. Then ends up doing a double take.

_Oh god, was she crying?_

If the wet streaks on her cheeks were any indication then, yeah she was.

"S'okay snowflake." she murmurs, leaning forward and stroking the blonde's hair in a comforting manner.

This seems to calm Quinn, but only for a moment. Then she starts mumbling unintelligibly again with her brow scrunched up.

Hesitate to wake her, Santana watches in silence but continues to stroke her hair.

It's when Quinn flinches rather suddenly that she decides she should definitely wake her up. Whatever she was dreaming about was not pleasant.

"Hey, Q." she whispers, her hand sliding down to her shoulder. "Quinn."

"Conceal, don't feel." the blonde mumbles, curling into herself.

Not understanding what that meant, Santana pauses and leans in closely.

"I can't stop it..." Quinn shrinks back from her, still sleep talking, and sharply shakes her head. "Anna, please...Anna."

Wait, who the fuck is Anna?

Santana shakes her head of the thought - it can wait - and rouses the girl a little more firmly.

"Hey, Q. Wake up."

Quinn bolts upright so suddenly that Santana narrowly avoids a head butt collision. "Anna!" she gasps, all but choking on the name.

"Woah, hey. Take it easy." Santana soothes, watching the shaken girl look around wildly. "You're alright. You were just dreaming."

"Santana?" Quinn blinks.

Santana just nods, taking in her confused stare. That must have been one hell of a dream. "Yeah, it's me. You were having a bad dream, I think. I had to wake you up."

"Oh."

Quinn draws back and looks at her open hands.

Santana watches her stare at them for the longest time before closing her fists and shutting her eyes for a moment. It's crazy but she swears relief just crossed her features.

Quinn drops her face to her hands then and rubs her forehead, probably trying to make sense of what just happened. Whatever that was.

Knowing how disorienting, and unnerving, dreams could sometimes get, Santana waits in silence while the girl sits in silent reflection, knowing she was going to need a minute to fully return to reality.

"You good, snowflake?" she finally asks after a good while, placing a calming hand on the blonde's back.

Quinn lifts her head and nods slightly. "Yeah." she sniffs, though it didn't sound entirely convincing.

"Hey." Santana gently directs her gaze back onto her, her hand still resting her shoulder. Quinn turns around and after meeting her gaze, understands, and shuffles closer.

She slips into Santana's arms with a shaky sigh, her arms moving around her neck. The Latina can still feel her trembling, so she holds her close but not too tight, not wanting to suffocate her.

"You're okay." Santana repeats, and Quinn sinks into her embrace.

They stay like that for some time, holding each other in a content silence. It eventually gets to the point where Santana thinks Quinn had fallen back asleep on her shoulder again.

It's only when the blonde turns her head toward her and sighs that Santana realizes she hadn't.

"You'd better not gotten snot on my shirt, snowflake." she playfully warns, wanting to lighten the mood.

Quinn looks back at her with a hint of a smile but doesn't say anything in response.

Next thing Santana knows, she's burying her face back into her shirt and makes a show of rubbing her nose into the fabric.

"Bitch, you didn't not just do that." she scoffs, chuckling helplessly when Quinn's shoulders start shaking from barely contained giggles. Santana rolls her eyes, albeit it in a fond way. "You're such a dork." she says.

With a mischievous smile, she sneaks her hand down and squeezes the ticklish girl's side, catching her off-guard.

Quinn squeaks at the feeling and instinctively jerks to the side. "And you're...evil!" she yelps, jumping up slightly when Santana gets her in that same spot again.

"Your fault for being so ticklish." Santana shrugs, meeting the blonde's mock glare with a smirk. Once the moment of playful eye-contact ceases, their expressions settle - the extent of their closeness suddenly apparent.

They were practically nose to nose and Santana could feel Quinn's every breath tickling her skin. Quinn's looking at her with _those_ eyes again, staring at her in a way that manages to both excite and unnerve her.

Santana swallows hard, her gaze unconsciously flickering to the blonde's lips and back, before quickly averting her gaze. She really wished Quinn wouldn't do that cute little lip biting thing during moments like this.

Or at all really.

It made her want to do _certain_ things.

Like, non-platonic things.

While her head is turned Santana blinks a few times to regain some composure.

"Uh, so...who's Anna?" she hears herself ask, breaking the silence that had stretched between them.

"What?"

Santana takes a breath and looks back at her. "You were calling out for someone named Anna while you were sleeping." she says, silently hoping she didn't sound bothered by it. She'd been lying if she said a hint of jealousy hadn't flared up upon hearing Quinn say another girl's name.

"Oh."

"Oh?" she can't help but repeat. "Who is she?"

"I don't know." Quinn says quietly, dropping her gaze.

"You don't know?" Santana frowns, not necessarily believing it. "Cause it sounded like you did..." she trails off for a second before scoffing a little. "What you've got like a secret crush or something?"

She means it as a joke but it comes out sounding a little more accusatory than she intended.

"Of course not." Quinn shakes her head at the very idea.

Yet she still can't make eye-contact with her. "Then who is she?"

"I just told you I don't know." Quinn sighs, her voice starting to rise defensively a little.

"No need to get pissy about it. I'm just asking." Santana leans back and holds her hands up, then rolls her eyes when Quinn pushes suddenly off her lap.

And just like that the walls are back up.

"Look," she sighs, rising to her feet. "If she's a girl you have a thing for just come out and say so. I'm your friend you can tell me this kind of stuff."

In the back of her mind she knows the very idea's ridiculous, that this was just her inner Snix reacting jealously to _her_ snowflake having dreams about some other girl, but she couldn't shake the feeling that that name meant something.

_Anna_.

Why did that name sound so familiar?

Had Quinn mentioned her before and she was only just realizing it?

Did they go to school with this Anna? Did they have class with her?

"I don't like anyone Santana." Quinn tiredly sighs, moving toward the kitchen. "Let alone a girl I have no recollection of dreaming about."

Santana follows her but stops at the counter. "So no one... like at all?" she has to clarify, not only for the sake of calming Snix but for her own as well.

They kept sharing these intense little moments and she needed to know if maybe Quinn felt something too - if those looks she kept giving her actually _meant_ something - or if she was just imaging things.

After a moment's hesitation, Quinn's eyes pull up to look at her across the counter. "Do you?" she asks, quietly. "Like someone?"

Santana stares back at her, lips pursed.

The way she sees it she could either lie and say 'no' or tell the truth and say 'yes' and risk opening a can of worms she's not sure she's ready to open.

"Maybe."

Or there's that.

Santana bites down on her bottom lip, anticipating the blonde's reaction - whatever it may be.

"That girl from Tony's?" Quinn figures, her gaze dropping as she turns around to make herself a pot of tea.

"Elaine?" Her brow knits together in confusion. "No," Santana shakes her head. "I mean she's... but it's not...no. No way."

"Oh."

Quinn's back was to her so Santana couldn't accurately gauge her reaction but to her ears that "Oh" almost sounded like a relieved one.

Then again, maybe that was just wishful thinking.

Santana shakes her head to herself. Man, what the hell was wrong with her? If this was any other person and she wanted to know what was up with them, she'd just _ask _them.

Yet here with Quinn she can't even manage that.

All she could do was stand here and second guess the blonde's every reaction, and hope she let slip some kind of confession that would let her know how she truly felt.

_Just suck it up, Lopez, and ask her how she feels. If she rejects you, she rejects you. At least then you'll know for sure where you stand._

"Are we ever gonna talk about it?"

Okay, _there_. A step in the right direction.

"Talk about what?" Quinn asks, her voice slightly going up an octave, but with her back still facing her.

Santana moves around the side of the counter and comes up beside her. "You know what, Quinn. What we did at Rachel's party. What the hell's been going on with us ever since."

"What's there to talk about?" Quinn shrugs dismissively, still not meeting her eyes. "We were drunk. Everyone knows alcohol makes you do stupid things that you end up regretting later."

Santana crosses her arms over her chest, the 'regret' in that sentence admittedly stinging a little. "Did you remember what happened before Rachel told us?"

Quinn shakes her head as she removes the whistling tea kettle off the stove. "All I knew was that someone had given me a hickey. I didn't know it was you."

"So if you didn't know it was me then why did you bolt the next morning?"

"I woke up alone in Rachel's room with no memory of anything. But I had a hickey the size of Texas on my neck—"

"_Or Mexico_..." she mutters, thinking of Brittany.

Quinn shakes her head, choosing to ignore her interruption. "—and I knew I'd done something really stupid. So I, of course, freaked out and bolted. I didn't think about it, I just...I had to get out of there."

"You weren't alone by the way. In Rachel's room, I mean." she feels the need to clarify. "I was passed out under the bed."

Quinn's brow scrunches up for a split second, confused, before settling. "I ran out of there so fast it makes sense I didn't see you."

"You must have passed out before I did."

Quinn nods in agreement. "The last thing I remember before blacking out was you ranting about how you were gonna find proof of Rachel's dwarf heritage and then sell her to TLC."

_Yeah and then use the money to buy an island where her and Quinn could get their mack on in private, _she recalls somewhat embarrasedly.

Santana mentally shakes off the vivid images that particular memory brought back and refocuses her attention.

"Do you really regret it?" she finds herself asking quietly, making the other girl pause. "What we did."

Quinn breathes out a long, unsteady sigh. "Everyone regrets the things they do while intoxicated, don't they?" she murmurs, more focused on preparing her tea than she is on the Latina.

Santana's frown deepens at that non-answer response. "But do you?"

"Do I what?"

With a roll of her eyes, Santana enunciates each syllable of her next question slowly. "Do you regret kissing me?"

Quinn turns back around, scoffing a nervous laugh. "What kind of a question is that?"

"A valid one." she responds, cutting the blonde off and stopping in front of her, forcing her gaze. "Brittany's got it in her head that you like me. Like, _like me_ like me."

"Funny she says the exact same thing about you." Quinn attempts to sidestep out of her way but Santana just blocks her again.

"Is it true?"

Quinn reluctantly lifts her gaze. "I don't know, Santana, is it?"

Santana shakes her head with a scowl. "Oh cut the crap, Quinn." she snaps, her patience finally beginning to give way. "I want a straight up answer - not another question thrown back at me."

"_I don't know what you want me to say_." Quinn shoots right back through gritted teeth. "There, is that enough of answer for you?"

"Do you like me?" she shouts, beyond caring at this point if she completely Snixed out on the girl. "As more than a friend?" she quickly throws in, before Quinn tried to deflect it with another stupid question.

Quinn, of course, doesn't answer her. Just hangs her head down and averts her gaze.

"It's a simple yes or no question." she exclaims, throwing her hands out in frustration when Quinn has the audacity to walk away from her. "'Yes, Santana, I like you' or 'No, Santana, I don't'."

Quinn returns to the living room and begins picking the pillows off the floor. "Santana, it's late. Now is not the time for this conversation."

"Oh no, right now is the perfect time." Santana comes to a stop a few feet away from her. "Now _yes_ or _no_."

Quinn releases a strangled breath. "Santana, please."

"I'm a lot of awesome things but a mind reader isn't one of them."

Santana drops her crossed arms in defeat, the blonde's watering eyes suddenly draining the anger from her. Attacking her wasn't the way to go about things, she realized with a heavy sigh. If anything it was just having the opposite effect of what she wanted.

Santana diverts her gaze for a second, nervously, before allowing it to settle back on Quinn.

"Well I like you." she murmurs in a significantly calmer tone, her arms shifting back to their folded position.

Quinn's head snaps right up. "You..._like me_?"

Santana shifts uncomfortably. "That's what I said, didn't I?" she huffs quietly, already regretting having said anything at all.

No girl who secretly wants to hear those words goes _that_ pale.

Well it looks like she got her answer.

Scared hazel eyes stare back at her. "Do you mean that or are you just saying that?"

Santana has to do a double-take at that question, not expecting Quinn to ask her _that_, of all things.

Like, really?

"What - of course I meant it." she scowls, her eyes flashing with indignance. "What, you think I'm fucking with you?"

"No, I just...Santana..." Quinn shuts her eyes, struggling to find the words. "You shouldn't like me."

_What the hell is that supposed to mean?_ "And why not?" she demands, waiting on an answer expectantly.

"Lots of reasons." Santana just raises her brow, indicating for her to elaborate. "For one I-I...think I need a psychiatrist." Quinn stammers, a humorless laugh escaping her.

"A psychiatrist?" Santana frowns, confused. "Q, I thought we went over this. You aren't crazy. Bacon obsessed, _yeah_. But crazy, no."

Quinn exhales shakily. "But I feel like I am, Santana." she says in earnest, pulling her gaze up to meet Santana's, showing that she was being absolutely serious. "I can barely sleep anymore. If I thought I couldn't before...I don't know, it seems like ever since Rachel's party...it's just gotten so out of hand." Quinn turns away and slumps back to the floor, defeated. Santana watches with sympathetic eyes.

Quinn brings her hands up to push against her temple, clearly overwhelmed. "I don't know what to do. I've tried everything, but these dreams won't stop. They're getting stronger and more vivid and they're making me feel like I'm going insane."

Santana sinks down next to her. Truthfully she always thought it uncanny that Quinn had trouble sleeping like she did and dreams that plagued her too, ever since she first mentioned it.

But it was just a coincidence.

...right?

Right. Of course it was.

"You, uh, wanna talk about them?"

She might not be able to figure out her own dreams, but maybe Quinn's were a little easier to interpret.

Quinn brushes away the tears that had collected with a quick swipe of her hand and shakes her head in refusal.

Unthinkingly, Santana reaches out and catches a stray tear with her thumb. "If you can't talk to me about them, then how do you expect to talk to some therapist?" she murmurs not unkindly.

Quinn shakes her head unknowingly. "How can I even begin to explain to you what's going on in my head when I don't even understand it myself?" her breath hitches.

It's scary how much Santana could relate to that sentiment alone.

"Just try." she encourages gently, her hand dropping from the blonde's cheek and sliding over her hand.

Quinn's eyes follow the gesture, then after a moment, begins in a hesitant tone. "Everything that happens in these dreams...it feels so familiar." she whispers, focusing on the way Santana's thumb caresses the back of her hand. "Like déjà vu."

Santana pauses her ministrations, Quinn's description so far sounding a lot like the one she used about her own dreams.

"So, you're dreaming about your past?" she questions unsurely, turning over the girl's hand absently and letting her fingers circle around her palm. The center of which was strangely cold, and brought about this tingling sensation when she touched it.

Weird.

"But it's not my past." Quinn continues, taking her hand away self-consciously. "It can't be. Everything that happens is too...fantastical. It doesn't make sense."

"Well it is a dream." she reasons easily enough, considering she's had similar conversations with herself. "Of course it's gonna be a little out there. Our mind's dream up the weirdest shit. I mean, I should know. I haven't been sleeping right either."

Quinn's gaze shoots up. "You haven't?"

Santana meets her eyes with a soft shake of her head.

"What are they about?"

Santana ducks her head. "Lately," she sighs, unsure if she should even be making this confession. "A lot of them have kinda been involving you."

"Me?"

"Not like in a kinky way." she assures, eyes pulling up quickly. Hopefully her blush isn't noticeable in this light. "Just...you're there. And it's like _I'm_ with you, but it's not...it's not us."

Santana cringes slightly, not really sure how to better word it than that.

"I get that feeling too." Quinn surprisingly nods, evidently able to relate in spite of her really terrible explanation. "Like I know I'm me but at the same time it's not me. Like it's some other person. It's very bizarre."

"Maybe we should both go see a psychiatrist." Santana mumbles, scoffing lamely under her breath.

They're having the same kind of dreams after all.

Which isn't at all strange.

Santana shakes her head. "Whatever happened to the days where the weirdest thing you'd dream about was showing up to school in your underwear?" she wonders, needing to distract herself from that unnerving thought.

"I know right." Quinn sighs, a sad smile crossing her features. "I mean they were embarrassing but at least they weren't making me a headcase."

Santana frowns deeply at that comment. "Hey. You're not crazy." she says, tilting her head in attempt to get the blonde to look at her.

Quinn lifts her head and gives her a smile that doesn't quite meet her eyes. "Cause Santana Lopez doesn't hang out with crazy, right?" she chuckles, albeit feebly.

"You're not crazy." she maintains in all seriousness.

"I honestly hope you're right." Quinn sighs, her voice quivering slightly.

"Oh, I am." she nods, a casual smile tugging up her lips. "My psychic Mexican third eye says so."

A short laugh escapes Quinn. "Your _what?_"

"Psychic. Mexican. Third. Eye." Santana confirms with another nod, her finger tapping in between her eyes. "It's legit. My abuela had me tested."

Quinn cracks an unwitting smile and shakes her head, unsure of how to even respond to that. "You're ridiculous."

"Yeah, ridiculously _awesome_."

As soon as the words slip out, Santana feels her smile fade, caught off-guard by how the moment resonated with her.

Again with that fucking déjà vu.

Looking over at Quinn, she sees that her expression had faltered too. Almost as if she'd experienced the same thing...

Santana turns away from that train of thought and mentally shakes her head. _Okay, maybe I'm the one going crazy after all._

"Maybe I should get some sleep." she mutters to herself, not realizing at first she'd spoken aloud.

"Oh." Quinn blinks, assuming she'd been speaking to her, and rises to her feet. "Yeah, if you want to, we can, I mean...I didn't realize how late it was."

Santana pushes herself upright just as Quinn does. "No, it's fine." she assures quickly. "I wasn't, I was just talking to myself."

"Oh, so you don't...?"

Santana shakes her head. "We can keep talking, I don't mind. Though it is kinda late." she says, glancing back at the clock on the mantle. Her abuela definitely wasn't gonna appreciate that.

"I am getting a little sleepy." Quinn admits with a slight nod.

Santana stares at the blonde unsurely. "It's okay if I like stay, right?" she has to clarify. She'd changed into her sleep clothes a while ago but only because Quinn still had them and they were comfortable. They'd kind of been playing things by ear as the night went along, neither wanting to assume that she'd be sleeping over.

"What? Oh, of course." Quinn nods, stammering sheepishly. "Yes. Should you call your abuela?"

"Too late now." If she wasn't already in trouble for not checking in she'd sure as hell would be if she dared call and wake her up at this hour. "But she knows I'm with you so it'll be fine."

"Right."

A long silence passes before they find themselves just awkwardly standing around, neither one making a move toward the bedroom in spite of what had just been agreed upon.

This would be their first time sleeping over since everything happened, and Santana wasn't sure if Quinn would be okay sharing a bed with her.

"Um, I can totally sleep on the couch if you want..." she speaks up, noticing how the blonde's gaze had dropped and turned distant, as if she was contemplating something.

Quinn drops her anxious hands and lifts her head abruptly. "Santana?" she questions, her eyes wide.

"Yeah?"

Santana doesn't know why she's all of a sudden nervous, but she is.

"I like you too."

For a few seconds Santana just blinks in utter confusion. "What?"

To say she wasn't expecting those words to come flying out of Quinn's mouth would be be a total understatement.

Quinn swallows nervously. "I never answered you before." she backtracks, her self-assurance shrinking along with it.

"You...like me?"

Santana wasn't intentionally mimicking the blonde's reaction from her own confession earlier, it just happened on its own. Hearing those words was kind of flooring; her brain literally didn't know what to make of it.

Quinn nods timidly. "As more than a friend." she clarifies, her head ducking briefly out of embarrassment.

"Seriously?"

Suddenly _she_ feels like she's the one being fucked with.

"I wanted to tell you earlier. I did." Quinn insists quietly, forcing herself to meet her gaze. "But I was just too scared to admit it out loud when I wasn't sure if you felt the same or not. I didn't want to ruin things and make things weird..." her words trail off, a small bitter scoff escaping her. "Which is what I ended up doing anyways."

Quinn shakes her head to herself, continuing, "And I'm sorry about that. I handled things in the wrong way. Or rather I didn't handle them at all. I ran. I just figured that if I distanced myself from you these feelings would go away on their own and then once they did we could go back to being friends. But—"

"But that's not how things work." Santana finishes knowingly.

If only though.

"No," Quinn sighs, resigned to the fact. "I just didn't know what to do. I've never had feelings like this before. So I convinced myself staying away from you was right thing to do, even though I knew we should talk things out. I was just too scared. And as much as I hate to admit it, when I'm scared I tend to run."

Santana nods in understanding, but shifts her stance uncomfortably. If Quinn could be open and honest about this then it was only fair she do the same. "I was scared too," she murmurs, grudgingly. Terrified was more like it. "Almost made myself go crazy because of it."

At Quinn's questioning glance, she explains, "I wanted answers but didn't have the balls to get them. I started over-thinking everything only to just talk myself out of every little sign I thought I saw. Which so isn't me." Santana shakes her head, diverting her gaze for a brief movement.

"God knows why but you really affect me, snowflake."

_And I'm not sure if I love it or hate it._

Quinn swallows thickly, trying to compose herself. "You affect me too, Santana, trust me. In the best and most terrifying way. If that makes any sense."

Santana purses her lips together. Fear. Terror. Those emotions seemed to be the consensus when describing their feelings.

"Why do you think this scares us so much?" she hears herself ask softly, her gaze pulling back up.

"Because it's new?" Quinn responds weakly, unsure of the answer herself. "Uncharted territory? Or at least for me it is. They say people fear what they don't know or understand."

Santana watches as the blonde's gaze sliding back to her hands. "Or can't control." Quinn adds under her breath.

Santana can't help but frown at the sight. What was it with her hands?

"Hey." Stepping forward, she gently brings Quinn back from whatever train of thought she'd gotten sidetracked on. "Look at me."

Quinn complies, but not without shifting self-consciously under her gaze. "What?"

Santana doesn't say anything. Whatever words she had at the ready having evaporated the second those hazel eyes found hers again.

You'd think after all this time the shock of familiarity would have worn off by now. But no, here she stands experiencing it all over again.

It's then that Santana feels something inside her ache. Like, _really_ ache.

She liked Quinn, and Quinn knew it. Hell she actually liked her in return! She should be really fucking happy and relieved that there was no more second-guessing. No more doubt.

And yet she wasn't.

Why did it feel like there was still missing something?

What more could she want?

_"I'm right here. Why can't you see that?"_

Unintentionally, Santana jerks away from the haunting words the Quinn from her dreams had asked of her on more than one occasion.

The slight movement does not go unnoticed by Quinn. "Santana?" she prompts.

The Latina meets the blonde's concerned eyes with a thin-lipped smile. "Sorry," Santana apologizes with brief head shake. "It's just...I've missed you, is all."

_I _still _miss you. And I don't know what that means._

After all how can you miss someone standing right in front of you?

Quinn's eyes search her face, with the sense that she wasn't telling her everything, but doesn't push it.

"I've missed you too." she whispers, her eyes shining with sincerity.

In the back of her mind Santana knows they don't mean it the same way but she can't bring herself to truly care. Those words brought too much comfort to her.

Without a second thought Santana steps forward, her eyes staring intently, and closes what little distance was still between them. "You know I'm gonna kiss you now, right?"

"I was kind of hoping you would, but at the same time I was kind of hoping you wouldn't." Quinn confesses, almost breathless, her gaze flickering to Santana's lips and then back up again.

Santana tilts her head and shifts closer, undeterred. "And why not?"

"Because I already like you too much as it is. And if you kiss me now, sober, here like this, it'll just make things worse." she murmurs.

"Or it'll make things better."

Quinn looks away for a moment before returning her gaze. "Santana," she sighs, conflicted, a tentative hand moving to touch her cheek.

"If you're trying to discourage me, snowflake, you're doing a shit ass job." Santana mumbles with a slight grin, the girl's touch only beckoning her closer.

Quinn quirks her brow, a playful scowl on her lips. "You kiss your grandmother with that mouth?"

"No," A shy flush creeps up on the blonde's cheeks when Santana nips teasingly at her bottom lip. "But I'll kiss _you_ with it." she smirks, capturing the snowflake's mouth fully.

Quinn moans into the surprisingly soft kiss, all but melting on contact. Santana slips her hand around Quinn's neck and angles it back, her mouth eager to refamiliarize itself with hers.

But in spite of this Santana forces herself to take it slow, not wanting this to be like their drunken encounter (however great it was).

They kiss over and over, exchanging passionately intimate kisses, each one making them more lightheaded than the last.

As amazing as kissing Quinn while drunk had been, it couldn't compare to what it felt like to be kissing her sober, Santana was quickly realizing.

And _fuck_, her taste was beyond addicting.

Their lips don't part until they're literally forced to break for air.

Santana pulls away first, slowly and reluctantly, and her forehead comes to rest against Quinn's. "Fuck," she breathes, her body trembling from that unexpectedly intense surge of emotion.

Quinn can only nod in agreement, still panting, her body just as worked up.

In the background Quinn's ipod is still going, now playing a familiar tune that instantly has Santana shaking her head. "I can't believe we just shared our first sober kiss to that song." she mutters while they catch their breath.

"_Take My Breath Away_." Quinn smiles fondly. "Seems appropriate."

Santana rolls her eyes and pulls back from the blonde. "It's from a fucking Tom Cruise movie." she groans, lowering herself back down to the floor.

Once she's seated cross-legged, she grabs Quinn and yanks her down, right onto her lap. "I _hate_ Tom Cruise. He's hobbit sized and you know how I feel about them hobbits."

"It's a good song nonetheless." Quinn giggles, her breath catching when Santana sweeps her hair off of her shoulder.

"Yeah, sure." she mumbles dismissively, dipping her head to place warm, open mouthed kisses on the side of her snowflake's neck.

Quinn closes her eyes, relishing in the feeling for a moment. "Santana?"

"Huh?" Santana hums against her throat, lightly sucking on her hickey. Even after all these weeks her mark still hasn't fully healed and she was going to see to it that it never did. At least for a little while longer anyways.

"What happens next?"

Santana lightly bumps her nose against the side of Quinn's jaw on her way to reclaiming her lips. "I kiss you until my lips fall off. Or until I get hungry for waffles. Whichever comes first."

"Just making sure." Quinn breathes, turning her head slightly so Santana could easily close the gap between them once more.

* * *

**AN: So, yeah. Those two are heading in the right direction. But it won't be all sunshine and roses just yet. They've still got some issues to sort out, and those dreams of course. **

**I have so much planned in the upcoming chapters, I just wanna tell you all now, but I won't because that won't be any fun! We'll be back in the Enchanted Forest for the next chapter, and a few more glee character's counterparts will make an appearance.**

**Hopefully now that I'm on break I'll have more time to write, maybe even get out that Quinntana oneshot that's been dancing around my head for the past couple months... **

**Anyways. And as always thank you for your continued support, it means so much!**

**P.S. To those anon Brittana fans who are being extremely rude in reviews (which I just delete by the way). It says this is a Quinntana story right in the description. I'm not trying to mislead anyone by tagging both Santana and Brittany in this story. I tagged them because along with Quinn they are the main characters. So please, enough with the hate.**

** I don't hate on any ship, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't group me with others that do just because I'm writing a Quinntana story. We don't all hate Brittana.  
**

**Finally, if this story isn't something you're interested in reading, then simply don't click on it. It's that easy. You're doing nothing but just wasting your time with those pointless comments.**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Wow. It's already August, good god. Well I hadn't planned on taking this long to update but what can you do. I appreciate your patience!**  
**So yeah, this chapter starts incorporating Elsa's POV. Tried to make it relatively even between her and Red.  
**

**This first part is a flashback.**

**Anyways, here's hoping it's somewhat worth the wait! Enjoy!**

* * *

"You can do this."

A young Elsa clenches her eyes shut in concentration. She stands not too far from her bedroom door, with small gloved fists curled up in front of her.

"You can do this, Elsa." she repeats quietly to herself.

Just breathe. Conceal, don't feel. _Conceal_—

"Elsa, dear?"

Her eyes snap open at the sudden sound, the mantra broken. For a moment her body seizes, then relaxes, her mind registering belatedly the gentle voice on the other side of her door.

Gerda. It was just Gerda.

Hesitantly, Elsa inches closer to the wood frame. Her fingers graze the brass handle tenatively before fully wrapping around and pushing down. She opens the door, but only just barely. Just enough for her to see out and meet the gaze of her caregiver.

"W-where is she?" she asks quietly. Her eyes only shuts when she hears her slip up.

Princesses don't stutter, Elsa, she reminds herself calmly, unconsciously biting down into her bottom lip. Princesses don't stutter...

"In the library doing her studies." Gerda assures.

When it came down to it Elsa trusted the woman, really she did, and knew she had her word but in spite of this her eyes flicker along the length of the hallway apprehensively. "You sure?"

After all it wouldn't be the first time little Anna had lied about her whereabouts just to see if she might come out of her room for a change.

"Positive, dear."

Though Elsa believes her, she remains safely tucked behind her door. "You'll stand guard, won't you?" she checks, timidly, her anxious eyes pulling back up to meet those of her caregiver's.

Gerda's smile is ever so soft and understanding as she reminds, "Always do."

Elsa nods gratefully and breathes out slowly, eyes lingering on the older woman as she leaves to 'guard' the top of the stairs. Elsa waits until she's disappeared around the corner completely before slipping out from the small opening between her door and the wall.

Once she's out in the open, she feels her stomach drop. It's not her first time doing this but the fear, the _anxiety_, gnaws at her insides just the same.

Knowing better than to dwell on the feeling, she begins to recite her earlier chant inside her head, mindful to keeping her gloved hands clasped in front of her as she proceeds down the hallway, in the opposite direction Gerda had left.

Conceal. Don't feel. Conceal. Don't feel.

She doesn't stop until she reaches the suit of armors lining the wall. Once upon a time they used to frightened her to no end; she had always found suits of heavy metal that could stand on their own without a body to support them incredibly eerie. And intimidating.

But she wasn't about to let them get the best of her.

She had to try.

She had to _keep_ trying.

Breathing in a fortifying breath, Elsa forces her gaze up from her shoes.

For Anna.

Elsa pulls off her glove - but just the one. Her hand, thankfully, isn't trembling as it normally does, which she more than willingly takes as a good sign as any to proceed.

Maybe...just maybe, this time things will be different.

A small surge of hope rising in her chest, Elsa bites down on her bottom lip to contain it. She knows better than that.

"You can do this." she whispers again, before shutting her eyes in silent prayer.

If at first you don't succeed, try, try, try again...Isn't that how it goes?

Careful as ever, Elsa reaches out for the suit of armor's hand, barely a breath escaping her.

When she tries to shake "his" metal glove, she rears back in a gasp, the single touch triggering a small frosted blast to erupt from out of her hand. Ice encompasses the entire hand and some of the forearm.

Elsa stares, disbelieving, at her handiwork. But she'd barely touched it. _Barely_.

Feeling the emotional build-up, she turns away quickly, knowing herself all too well. "Don't get upset. Don't get upset." she murmurs, moisture already beginning to collect in her eyes.

Elsa hastily slips her glove back. "It'll only make things worse." she reminds herself, echoing her father's words inside her head.

Conceal, don't feel.

Conceal.

Don't. Feel.

The temperature around her dropping, Elsa hurries back to her room in silent terror. She slams her door shut without pause as soon as she's back within the confines of her bedroom. She gasps for breath and her muscles tremble. Her unease results in ice.

Elsa backs away from her door, knowing from experience that if she strayed too close, her magic would spread out under the door and into the corridor.

(It had taken a while for the King to smooth things over that time, having had to give the staff some story about a broken window accounting for all the frost).

"Elsa?"

Unprepared for the sudden voice, she jumps back, her small feet clamoring for more distance. In her haste she accidentally trips over her old toy chest and falls backward, landing right on her behind.

_"We will condition that clumsiness right out of you, sweetheart."_ Her mother had assured once during her princess lessons, after a rather embarrassing slip-up. _"Don't you fret. By the time you're of age you'll be as graceful as a swan."_

"Elsa?" Gerda tries again from behind the other side of her door. "Are you alright?"

Elsa straightens herself and nods wordlessly, not trusting her voice to be steady at first. "Yes, I'm fine." she eventually manages out, even though she was anything but.

"There's always tomorrow, dear."

Elsa shuts her eyes, Gerda's gentle reassurances just chipping away at her already weak resolve to not get overtly emotional. "You still have plenty of time before the celebration." She doesn't dare look over at the calender on her desk reminding her of Anna's upcoming 10th birthday. "Things can still turn around for you. Just have a little more patience. You'll get it one day, I know you will."

Elsa drops her gaze with a sniffle, eyes burning with the unshed tears she flat out refused to release.

Big girls don't cry, Elsa.

Princesses don't cry.

_Future queens_ don't cry.

Elsa folds her arms across her chest, in a vain attempt to keep herself locked together.

She wasn't asking for much. Really she wasn't. She didn't expect to have everything to magically get better in time for Anna's birthday. She just wanted to be able to stand in front of her baby sister and wish her a happy birthday in person. Squeeze her hand. Convey to Anna that even though her big sister couldn't a build a snowman with her anymore, she still loved her with all her heart.

She just wanted to be with her family again.

"It's not happening, Gerda." she hears herself say. She shakes her head, watching resignedly as the ice fans out around her. "It's never going to happen. Never."

"Don't say that, dear. Have hope."

_How can I?_ Is what she wants to say - no, _cry_. She wants to cry.

How can she keep her hopes up when it's been _five_ years?

Five years of her trying to practice control, of her getting nowhere. Of failure.

Five years of disappointment, of growing self-hatred.

Five years of her powers only getting stronger by the day.

Elsa sinks to her knees, her expression finally crumbling. Through blurred vision she stares down at her gloved hands and quietly cries, "Why won't you go away?" Her voice cracks and it only fuels her frustration and despair.

No matter how determined her drive, no matter how desperately she wanted her life - _her family_ \- back, her powers always won out in the end.

_You just have to face the fact that they always will, Elsa_, she thinks to herself, shutting her eyes once more, trying to rein it all in. _Human contact is a thing of the past now_.

The sooner she accepted that, the better off she'd be.

Right?

Right.

—

Startling herself awake, Elsa's eyes fly open. She gasps for air, body panicking, that unpleasant memory a little too real for her to handle.

Elsa barely registers the movement behind her until she hears, "Hey, hey. You're okay."

Red slips her hand around her waist, bringing her back to her senses, to reality. "You're with me." she murmurs, lips pressing against her hair. "You're safe."

Elsa breathes a drawn out sigh of relief. Her muscles tremble as her body attempts to calm down from that minor attack. She waits for a moment before slowly shifting onto her other side.

"Nightmare?" Red guesses sleepily, stifling a yawn.

"Childhood." she mumbles with a slight nod. In her case they were the same thing.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No, not really."

"Wanna go back to the tent?"

Elsa purses her lips together. "We probably should." Though she doesn't necessarily want to. Having wanted some privacy from themselves, they'd slipped away from the camp not long after everyone had retired for the night. They'd settled underneath one of the trees, using Red's cloak as a blanket to lay on.

They hadn't done much but talk and sit in silence. Neither one minded whenever a lull in the conversation occurred. Something which Elsa was grateful for. With other people she always stressed herself out when things got quiet, feeling obligated to keep the conversation going but never quite sure how to go about it.

But with Red things were different. Easier.

"But then that would require us having to move." she finishes, none to keen to go anywhere to be honest.

"You sure you aren't cold though?" Red checks, a little more awake now as her head lifts off the ground.

"Are you sure _you_ aren't?"

In spite of everything she still worried about their - _her_ \- closeness and the potential repercussions that could come from it.

Red scoffs in response, but her lips are quirked so Elsa knows it's in jest. "I don't get cold, remember?"

"Neither do I." she reminds just as easily, a slight smile on her face.

Red rolls her eyes. "Right. How could I forget, Little Miss 'the cold never bothered me anyway'." she teases, leaning forward and lightly nudging her nose with her own.

Elsa's smile falters somewhat as her breath catches involuntarily. Even the simplest touch managed to take her breath away.

"You okay, snowflake?" Red asks in concern, catching her change in expression.

Elsa shifts her gaze slightly so she can look up into soft, brown eyes and nods. "You just keep catching me off-guard. It's not bad or anything," she quickly assures, feeling her heart seize at the doubt displayed on brunette's face. "It's just going to take a while before this," She gestures to the small distance between them briefly, "Registers as normal."

Thankfully Red seems to understand and nods accordingly. "That's okay." she shrugs. "S'not like I expect anything more from you. I mean, we're not like in a hurry or anything to uh, _do_ certain things or not do them..." she trails off with an embarrassed shake of her head, realizing that wasn't particularly coherent.

"What I mean to say," Red tries again. "Is just because we admitted to having feelings for each other, that doesn't mean I expect things to magically be rainbows and perfection now. You're still you and I'm still me, which means we still got our own issues. But that's okay, cause we're getting better."

"And more awesome?" Elsa can't help but throw in, made significantly more at ease.

"You took the words right out of my mouth." Red grins.

Every time Elsa's able to make Red laugh or smile, something akin to pride flutters inside her, resulting in warm, embarrassed cheeks. That alone has her instinctively shying away.

Red follows her lead as she moves to sit in an upright position.

While silently willing the heat to leave her face, Elsa stares ahead at the rest of the forest.

"Hey." Out of her peripheral she can see Red inch closer to her. It doesn't bother her, far from it, but when a warm hand comes to rest on her lower back, Elsa exhales as calmly as she can muster, the heat of her touch all but melting the ice under her skin.

"Come here." Red murmurs quietly, the hand on her back beckoning her closer.

Elsa peers over her shoulder, and then back again, biting her lip in uncertainty. In the back of her mind she knows she shouldn't. Hasn't she tempted fate, played with fire - or ice, as it were - enough as it was every time she allowed herself to get close with Red? Sure was doing fine so far but god only knows how long that streak would last...

"You're not gonna hurt me, snowflake." Red sighs, easily figuring out her hesitance. An uncanny ability of hers.

That, or Elsa's just a lot easier to read than she thinks she is.

Either way, in spite of her better judgment, she allows herself to believe Red's words. If only because the comfort of the girl's embrace was far too alluring to resist.

Elsa shifts herself onto Red's lap and slowly, carefully, sits down with her thighs on either side of Red's. She swallows hard at the intimacy of it all. Then, not knowing what to do with her hands, keeps them safely at her sides.

Red, on the other hand, keeps her arms securely wrapped around her. When her forehead comes to rest gingerly against her own, Elsa is helpless but to lift her gaze.

She meets tender brown eyes and _oh boy_, the muscles in her stomach feel like they're doing backflips.

God was Red beautiful.

Even after all this time they've spent together, she still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that such a beauty could want to be her friend.

Could want to be her..._more_ than a friend.

"Whatcha thinking?" Red leans back as she asks this, and Elsa swears it's because Red knows her so well and could sense their close proximity was making her lightheaded.

(Which it was, but that was her own doing, overthinking and whatnot).

Elsa smiles faintly as Red eases a strand of hair out of her face. "That you are far too beautiful to be real." she says truthfully.

Red stops in surprise, looking like that was the last thing she expected Elsa to say to her. She recovers quickly though. "Careful now snowflake." she lightly warns, her lips pulling up into a smirk. "Compliments like that are only gonna feed my ego. Which, as we both know, is already pretty up there in size."

Elsa rolls her eyes, albeit it in a fond manner. "It's the truth." she maintains, breathing easier thanks to Red's lighthearted response. She'd worried her for a second there. "You are without a doubt the most beautiful girl - _woman_," she corrects herself. "I've ever laid eyes on."

Red's smirk falters. Her expression changes into one Elsa can't quite identify but that leaves her with the sense that Red maybe doesn't hear that often as she should.

Something which Elsa automatically resolves to change if she can help it.

"You're making it really hard for me not to kiss you." Red confesses quite candidly, making Elsa's breath catch in her throat.

Oh God.

Elsa swallows hard, a sick feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

Not because she didn't want to kiss Red. Of course she did. She just...it was so soon. She'd thought she'd have a little more time before she had _that_ to worry about.

She'd only ever read about kissing in books but never really fantasized about doing it with anyone until Red came into her life. And even then she didn't know if she was fantasizing about it the right way. She'd never seen her parents kiss from what she could remember. And once she did accidentally walk in on Kristoff and Anna kissing in the stables - but that had been so horribly awkward and embarrassing for all parties she blocked the memory out as best she could and buried it deep within her subconscious.

Cause really, for lack of a better term, _gross_.

There are some things a sister should not have to witness her younger sibling doing, and that was one of them.

...And oh god, what if she couldn't do it right? What if she was the one person on this earth physically incapable of properly kissing another person?

She wouldn't be surprised.

Just add that to the never-ending list of ways she's defective as a human being.

"Elsa." Red interrupts quietly, trying to steer her away from her own detrimental thoughts, as she often does. "Relax. I'm not gonna do it unless you want me to. I'd never force myself on you."

"I know that." Elsa looks away uncomfortably, able to feel the ice in her veins more prominently now. "I'm just...I'm not...can't...I mean I want to." The worry of her powers bursting forth has her unable to speak coherently.

"Elsa, breathe." Red gently reminds, touching her chin and guiding her gaze back onto her. "Focus on me and breathe, in and out."

Elsa does as she asks, as best as she can.

"Don't think, just feel." Red continues, and for a second Elsa doesn't understand what she means, until she finds herself watching as the brunette takes her hand and places it over her cheek.

"No, Red!" Panicked (to say the very least), she tries to move her hand away, but Red just keeps her hand clasped over hers.

"Snowflake you're not gonna hurt me." she calmly sighs, squeezing her hand gently. "And yes, I'm gonna keep on saying that until you actually believe it."

Elsa barely hears her. Her heart's hammering in her chest and all she can focus on is her _bare_ hand on Red's skin, while her mind unwittingly flashed back to all those traumatizing instances where her powers couldn't be controlled.

"Red, please." she begs.

"That fear you feel, it's all in your head. It will only get the best of you if you let it." Red rests her forehead against hers, her nose lightly skimming hers. "Just be with me here right now. Do that much for me."

Elsa shuts her eyes and nods. She takes a deep breath and as the seconds tick by, feels her body begin to calm down. To her immense relief, nothing happens. Ice doesn't so much as form under her fingertips. All she feels is Red's warm cheek against her hand.

The unfamiliarity of it all distracts her so that it takes her a good while for her to realize Red was no longer keeping her hand there.

When she finally does notice it she can't help but stare in awe.

"If you rub my cheek, I may or may not grant you three wishes. No promises though."

Chuckling softly to herself, Elsa moves her hand along Red's jaw tentatively.

Still no ice.

Gradually her confidence increases and it's not long before she begins exploring the rest of Red's features. She traces her cheeks, her nose, her brow, even the divots where her dimples are.

It isn't until her vision becomes obscured that Elsa realizes her eyes had welled up with tears.

When Red sees this she immediately rises up in concern. "Hey you're doing good snowflake." she reassures, brushing away a stray tear. "So good. It's okay."

Elsa smiles weakly, feeling her throat constrict with emotion. "It's just for a long time I never thought I'd be able to do this again." She turns away in embarrassment, trying to blink away tears only to have to swipe them away herself. "I'm sorry."

Red shakes her head and cups her cheek, gently bringing back her gaze. "Don't ever apologize for showing emotion, okay? It's good. Healthy."

Elsa shuts her eyes tightly, a choked up sob managing to escape her. "For a while I actually forgot what it felt like."

"That's never gonna happen again." Red says firmly. "You hear me? For as long as I'm alive you're never going to feel that way. Those days of you feeling alone, of _being_ alone are over."

Elsa can only hiccup and nod, the tears streaming freely down her face now. Before she knows what she's doing she's leaning forward and burying her face in the crook of Red's neck, collapsing into her embrace.

She holds onto Red for dear life, shaking and crying tears of relief and happiness, but still with this lingering fear that this was all just a beautiful dream and she'd soon wake up back in her room.

Alone.

"Sorry, snowflake." she faintly hears the brunette apologize, once she's cried herself out. Red's hand glides over her hair and her lips dust a kiss to her forehead. "I didn't bring you out here with the intentions of making you cry."

"I know that." she sniffles with a small feeble chuckle. The apology beyond unnecessary. She sits back in Red's lap and leans her head against her shoulder.

Red lightly rests her head against hers. "Just making sure."

Silence washes over them for a while. The only thing Elsa pays attention to is Red's heart pounding against her ear.

Thinking it was because her, she shifts away from the brunette. "Something wrong?" she wonders, looking back at her worriedly. "Your heart's racing."

"Just a little anxious." Red confesses, ducking her head uncomfortably. "I wanna ask you something, but I don't wanna freak you out. Or seem like, pushy."

Her back straightens as she silently prepares herself for the worst. "Go ahead. You know you can tell me anything."

"I know this is all happening kinda fast but I want you to be my girl." Red says rather quickly, presumably out of nerves. "And I wanna be yours." She lifts her gaze self-consciously, adding, "If you'll have me."

Elsa feels her brow lift of its own accord. "You want to court me?"

"I want..." Red hesitates for a moment, unsure. "I want everything." She breathes out, huffing anxiously. "Whatever that all entails. I just, I want _you_." she murmurs, leaning down, lips brushing against hers quickly.

The completely unexpected, and unplanned judging by the way Red's eyes widened slightly, gesture sends a strong shiver down Elsa's spine.

Her breath catches at the same time Red whispers, "Fuck. Sorry."

Elsa shakes her head, admittedly a little dazed. The kiss was like a warm jolt of electricity, not unlike the kiss Red gave her yesterday. Even if it was inadvertent. "Don't be." she hears herself say. "And to be clear, I want you too. I want to be with you."

Red stops her internal worrying and looks back at her, relief lighting up her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." she confirms breathlessly, her nerve endings tingling with sudden excitement at the way Red was looking at her.

Her eyes flutter close when Red presses her lips against hers.

It's a soft, simple kiss. Passionate in regards to the emotion behind it, but quite chaste in execution, as a proper first kiss should be.

"Was that alright?" Elsa finds herself asking when Red finally pulls away.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Red mutters, quirking her brow at her, amused. "I kissed you, remember?"

"But that was my first real kiss. I don't know if I did it right."

A large smile breaks across Red's features. "Snowflake it's like,_ impossible _to screw up a kiss." she chuckles with a small shake of her head. "Especially with me. I'd still fucking adore you even if you tried to swallow me whole like a python."

Elsa giggles in spite of her, still a little embarrassed but able to move past it. Red smiles in return and lightly bumps her jaw.

"Thank you." she says with hint of a smile.

Red pulls back, her brow furrowed. "For what?"

"For being...you." she shrugs, unsure of how else to better put it.

"Well thank you for being _you_." Red smirks. "If you were anyone else I'd be like-"

"_No me gusta?_" she supplies knowingly.

Red leans down and smiles, lips pressing tenderly to her cheek. "Exactamente."

—

When morning comes Red wakes up feeling tired but happy. She didn't get much sleep last night spending it with Elsa so she's kind of exhausted. But she couldn't really complain about it. Not that she wanted to; it's been a while since she's woken up feeling this good.

After all, her and Elsa were _together_. Something she honestly never expected to happen, except for maybe like, in her dreams. It was a strange concept to grasp - being in lo..._like_ with a girl of royalty.

(She's gonna avoid using that other L-word for now, even in her head; it's too soon to be thinking that way anyhow. _Way_ too soon.)

Elsa was a queen no less, and as much as Red didn't want to admit it, that fact kind of intimidated her now. Sure she cared about Elsa with all her heart but that didn't mean she believed she was good enough for a actual, real life queen, even on a good day.

Red liked to think she was confident but she wasn't _that_ confident.

Fortunately, she knows better than to let her insecurities get the better of her and ruin her mood. So she pushes these thoughts to the back of her mind and does her best not to dwell on them. Just as she tells Elsa to do.

In spite of all the progress they were making with their relationship though, rescuing Anna was still the priority.

Which is why as soon as breakfast was over, they gathered their things to head on out. As it turned out, Snow had been completely serious when she said she wanted to join them on the next leg of their journey. Red had thought it was all just talk but no, Snow was all packed and ready to go before they even were.

Being the girl's friend, Red had felt obligated to remind her that going with them to confront her step-mother was like a lamb walking into the lion's den but Snow couldn't be swayed. Her mind was made up and Red knew better than to waste time arguing with her about it.

So yeah, she definitely wasn't thrilled with the idea of her tagging along - for Snow's sake - but at the same time she didn't really mind it either. As annoying as fuck as that girl sometimes was, Snow was still her good friend, and okay yeah, she _kind of_ liked having her around.

Who she didn't like having around was the country bear jamboree who just had to come with her.

Those so-called 'Merry Men' were more attached to Snow than she'd initially realized.

(Totally not weird).

And so now Red finds herself back on a goddamn horse, stuck traveling with Snow White and her seven doofuses.

_Great._

Glancing around at their surroundings, Red heaves a sigh of restlessness. Same trees, same rocks. What riveting scenery.

They had better not be riding around in circles. Cause if they were she will so be pissed, and then she'd have to cut someone.

Like for real.

Her gaze falls forward. She locks eyes on the one person of the group she'd most like to cut: Little John.

And good god, was that a stupid name. Nickname or otherwise.

It wasn't even ironically funny.

Red scrunches her nose in distaste, the Jolly Green Giant currently talking with Rapunzel. In her opinion Goldilocks would probably have more stimulating conversation with a lizard, but hey...

Speaking of. Red looks on as Rapunzel places her little chameleon friend Pascal on John's shoulder.

If only she'd been born with the power to use mind control on animals, that'd be so useful right now, she thinks, slightly disgruntled.

Red decides to test it out anyways. (Who knows? Maybe that was a hidden perk of being a werewolf).

_Bite him, Pascal_. she tries, touching her temple with one hand and furrowing her brow in concentration. _Bite him in his big fat gravy bloated neck..._

"Red?"

God dammit.

So much for her concentration.

Glancing over her shoulder, Red turns to find Elsa regarding her curiously over from her horse, her head slightly tilted in confusion. "What are you doing?"

"Focusing my awesome on mind control. Or at least I _was_." she drawls, eyes narrowing in a playful glare.

"I don't think there's such thing as mind control, Red." Elsa chuckles.

"Says the girl with ice powers to the werewolf." she deadpans in response. "Really, in this world just about anything's possible."

"True." Elsa concedes with a small smile.

Looking over at her, the blonde adds, "You know you really shouldn't ride like that." She nods at Red's hunched over posture. "It's bad for your spine."

Red turns her chin dismissively, her arms wrapped not at all dependently around her horse's neck. "You ride your way. I'll ride mine."

"Leif is a sweetheart." Elsa says of the grey horse. Her sister's horse. "He's not going buck you off."

"Hmph." Red eyes said overgrown donkey warily. "We'll see about that." she murmurs.

"You're more likely to fall off if you keep hanging onto him that way."

"Am not." Red denies petulantly, much to Elsa's amusement - which she promptly scowls at. "You know what, snowflake? You better watch it or I'll knock you off."

She carefully juts her leg out in warning. "Kick you right into the bushes. Like a damn kangaroo."

Elsa releases a short laugh. "I don't even know what to say to that." she sighs, lightly shaking her head.

"You usually say something along the lines of _'you're ridiculous'._"

"Fine. You're ridiculous."

Red rolls her eyes but finds herself smiling anyways. Elsa was just too damn cute for her own good. And fuck if Red didn't want to kiss her for it.

The only reason she didn't was because she knew if she tried, she'd probably just fall off her horse. And like, die.

Then she'd be Little _Dead_ Riding Hood.

And that'd be all kinds of wrong.

"Whatever, snowflake." she scoffs. "You know you _so_ like that about me."

"That I do." Elsa nods, her smile bashful. "Among other things."

Red quirks her brow at her. "Like what?" she asks, curious to know.

Elsa just about answers her when something catches her attention out of corner of her eye, forcing her head to turn away. Naturally Red follows her gaze. And, after seeing that the others up ahead had stopped for some reason, she pulls on her horse's reins.

"I'm telling you Robin, we're going the wrong way!" she could hear Snow yelling. That girl sure had a set of pipes.

"No offense princess but the forest is _my_ turf." Robin shouts, his voice rivaling hers. "I think I know my way around it."

"Evidently not since you're leading us in the wrong direction!" Snow huffs in annoyance. "I think I know where my own castle is."

Red sighs in exasperation as her and Elsa near the others. _Not again_, she groans.

"Uh, guys we have a map." Rapunzel reminds, waving around said item, attempting to break through their arguing.

Snow snatch the map out of her hands. "Give me that."

"Hey watch it hobbit." Red warns, sidling up beside them and carefully removing herself from her perch.

"Not now, Red." Snow hushes, engrossed in the contents of their map. "See, aha!" Perking up triumphantly, she whips around and unceremoniously shoves the piece of parchment in front of Robin's nose. "I told you. You led us _completely_ off course."

Robin quickly snatches the map out of her grasp to get a better look for himself. "I did not, you damn chipmunk. Guess princess lessons didn't entail learning how to read a map."

Red resists the urge to roll her eyes as the pair proceeds to argue. "I knew I should've been paying better attention to where we were going." she mutters, turning away only to help Elsa down from her horse. "Remind me whose bright idea was to put those two in charge?"

"No one." Elsa sighs, dismayed by the delay. "Snow kind of just took charge and Robin..."

"Wasn't about to let anyone tell him what to do." she finishes with a knowing nod. "I say we grab Rapunzel and ditch 'em before they notice."

Elsa looks past her at the bickering group of outlaws and the blonde princess trying to play mediator. "As much I don't want to admit it, we could use all the help that we can get."

That's when they hear the horses.

Knowing all their horses were stationary, Red and Elsa whip around at the sound, only to find two masked riders heading straight for them.

Uh-oh.

Masked riders in armor were never a good thing.

Instinctively Red pushes Elsa behind her. "Uh, guys?" she calls out.

"We got company, boys!" she hears Robin declare, and judging by the footfall, that has everyone springing to action.

Red steels herself as the two riders dismount from their horses. They weren't a pair of the Queen's Black Knights that much she could tell, which should be a good thing, but she had the sinking feeling they weren't hospitable soldiers.

"Don't even try it." Jack, aka Trouty Mouth, warns when swords are unsheathed; his crossbow at the ready. "You're outnumbered."

"Like we can't dodge a few measly arrows." the shorter one of the soldiers scoffs, their voice slightly muffled by their mouth covering.

"Who are you and what business do you have here?" the second one asks, hand resting on the hilt of their sword.

"Better question is who are you?" Robin returns, uncooperative as ever, with bow raised and arrow poised to fire.

The first soldier removes his guise only to reveal himself as...well, a _she_.

"We asked first." the girl says, her straight black hair fanning out to her shoulders.

Her companion removes their helmet as well, revealing himself to be a man.

"Excuse me, please." Snow breezes through the band of Merry Men like the princess she is, having been unceremoniously shoved behind them for protection.

Once she's made her way to the front, she turns over her shoulder and shoots them all a pointed glare, huffing unappreciatively.

"In response to your question," Snow returns her attention and steps in between the two groups confidently, turning on her classic charm. "We are traveling to the Evil Queen's castle. We mean you no harm, whoever you are, or anyone for that matter. We are simply passing through."

Meanwhile Red watches the pair of soldiers closely, catching the dubious glances exchanged between them. "What business do you have with the Evil Queen?" asks the young man.

"Well I am her step-daughter." Snow hesitantly admits. It was a tie she wished she really didn't have. "Though please don't hold that against me. We are nothing alike—"

"So you're the one she's after? Snow White?" The girl regards Snow with slightly narrowed eyes for a moment, her head cocked to the side.

"Huh." Her gaze shifts to her male companion. "I expected her to be taller."

Snow crosses her arms over her chest and straightens her neck, obviously miffed. "And who, may I inquire, are you?"

Soldier girl gestures to herself, then to solider boy. "I am Fa Mulan and this is Li Shang."

"Your highness." Shang adds, bowing his head in courtesy.

Elsa steps out from behind Red. "Might you tell us whose kingdom we are in exactly?"

"King Arthur's."

Red frowns at the name much like Snow does. "King Arthur?" the shorter brunette echoes, confused. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the name."

"Well he's new to the throne."

"_Really_ new." Shang mutters.

Taking in their confused expressions, Mulan explains, "He's a friend of ours. We were patrolling the area for him when we saw you. We had to make sure you guys weren't a threat."

"Well I can assure you that we are not." Snow smiles brightly.

Mulan eyes her, not so convinced. "Let's not rule that out _just_ yet." she drawls. "Your eyes are borderline crazy. No offense your highness."

"They are kind of alarming." Shang quietly agrees.

Snow's smile disappears in record time and Red can't help herself, snorting a laugh, which earns her a jab in the ribs from Elsa.

"Oh don't act like you didn't think the same thing when you first met her, snowflake." she whispers under her breath, grinning knowingly.

"It's not her fault she was born like that." Elsa returns in that same hushed tone, forcing Red to stifle another laugh.

"So what exactly is compelling you to seek out the Evil Queen?" Mulan asks of Snow, her brow creased in confusion. "Doesn't she want nothing more than to kill you?"

"Well, yes." Snow concedes with a slow nod. "But you see our good friend Queen Elsa of Arendelle here," She gestures back to the blonde. "Had her younger sister kidnapped and we plan to rescue her." she declares confidently.

Shang's gaze drifts behind her to the rest of their group and he furrows his brow. "Without an army?" he questions skeptically.

"_We're_ her army." Robin corrects with a glare. "She doesn't need anything more than that."

"You must have one hell of a strategy to compensate for your insufficient numbers." Shang comments, brow raised slightly.

"..._And_ you don't even have that." Mulan realizes, taking in their less than confident expressions.

"Hey, we've got a secret weapon." Robin scoffs, nodding to Elsa. "Her royal highness here has mad ice powers."

Red's gaze snaps toward him. "What the fuck did I tell you about calling her that?" she growls, reaching over and smacking the back of his head. "And it's her royal _majesty_."

After a second, she gives him another smack just for the hell of it.

Egghead.

Shang's eyes fit between them all. "You guys need help." he says, stating the obvious.

"In more ways than one." Mulan deadpans, then slowly turning to the side to address her friend privately. "Maybe we should talk to Arthur." she murmurs under her breath.

Shang frowns in confusion. "You think he can help?" he asks just as quietly, but thanks to Red's heightened wolf senses she can hear them both perfectly.

"Remember?" Mulan prompts with a subtle raise of her brow. "What about his friend? The _you know what_..."

Shang's eyes light up, comprehending now. "Oh, right. _His friend_."

"What the hell are you two whispering about over there?" Red demands, annoyed she didn't understand whatever the hell they were secretly referencing. "And _friend_ better not be code for what I think it is. Cause that is seriously sick."

Last time a boy tried to show her his 'friend' she kicked his balls back up into his body. And from what she heard since then, they stayed there.

Anyways.

Mulan and Shang turn away from their conversation. "Look, Camelot is just beyond the edge of the forest." the former sighs, unwilling to explain herself just yet. "You should probably just come with us."

Shang nods. "The king knows someone who might be able to help you."

"Wait." John frowns. "Why would you want to help us?"

"Yeah," Robin nods his head, looking equally suspicious. "What's in it for you?"

"In times like these it's best people like us stick together." Mulan says simply. "But of course if you have doubts and don't want our help..."

"Ignore them, please." Snow cuts off, wide-smiling and voice clipped. "And lead the way."

Before the short brunette can go bounding off, all zippity-do-da like, Red latches onto her arm, dragging her back. "Snow if you get us killed by Asian Fusion, I'mma make you wish the Evil Queen had gotten her hands on you." she warns to her and her alone.

Snow rolls her eyes. "Red, that's improbable. How can you hurt me if we're already dead?"

"I won't really be dead." she snorts. "I'm a wolf, we have nine lives."

"That's cats."

"Shut it, dwarf."

—

With a strong title like 'King Arthur' you'd expect the guy to be well...fairly old with like, facial hair and a good solid build. You know like, _kingly_.

Not some scrawny ass kid with chicken legs.

"Okay what kind hell of a kingdom is this?" Red turns away, whispering in Rapunzel's ear, while the others chatted with their new acquaintances. "You pull a sword out of a rock and bam you're the effing king? Who the fuck came up with that nonsense?"

Rapunzel shrugs and tilts her head contemplatively. "He's kind of cute, don't you think?"

Red stares back at the so-called king and scrunches up her nose. "If you have a thing for pre-pubescent twelve year-olds." She looks back at Rapunzel and narrows her eyes. "Pervert."

Rapunzel rolls her eyes playfully. "Red, Mulan said said he was our age."

In that moment Arthur's too large crown slips down over his eyes and knocks his glasses clean off.

"Uh-huh. We'll see about that."

Red turns on her heel and strides back over to the rest of the group. "Okay enough with the chit-chat." she declares before stopping directly in front of Arthur. "Team Asian over there said you know someone who could help us deal with the Evil Queen, so do you or don't you?"

If not she wanted to know now so they could get going already.

"Red, where on earth are your manners?" Snow hisses, absolutely mortified, before moving rapidly to apologize to the King. "I am so sorry, your majesty, you'll have to excuse her. She was dropped several times as a child. Or so we all assume."

"The fuck I was—"

Fortunately for Snow, Elsa has fast reflexes and is able to pull her back.

"Red," she sternly warns.

"It's alright." Arthur assures, though through a nervous chuckle. Red, like all girls, intimidated him. "I'd much rather people say what they feel than hold their tongue."

"Anyhow," Snow slowly returns her attention, prompting him to continue. "Back to what you were saying before, Arthur. Your wizard friend."

"Ah yes. Merlin." the boy - er, _man_ \- man boy...king man boy...shoves his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "She's great. But the thing about her is, now that I'm king, she kind of comes and goes as she pleases."

"Wait, _she_?" Robin backtracks.

John's face screws up. "Merlin's a chick?" he questions similarly.

"The name's a little misleading I know." Arthur nods, frowning slightly. "Apparently her parents were sure she was gonna be a boy but then she wasn't, and they didn't feel like coming up with a new name..." he trails off and waves the matter aside. "It was this whole thing, but that's a whole 'nother story. Anyways I haven't seen her in a while. Last I heard she was vacationing in Bermuda."

"And where is that?" Red frowns, exchanging a brief look with Elsa, never having heard of that kingdom before.

"Dunno." Arthur shrugs. "Probably a kingdom that hasn't been discovered yet."

"Excuse me?"

"You know, like the future?" Arthur raises his brow. "I'll admit she's not the most _competent _ sorceress, but she's brilliant in a kind of erratic way, and she can time travel."

_Time travel?_ Red mentally scoffs. She shoots Elsa a disbelieving glance, but the blonde just raises her shoulders in a shrug.

Red rolls her eyes.

_Okay, now I've heard everything._

"Well is there any way we can contact her?" Snow inquires. "We could use all the help we can get, if possible."

"Not really," Arthur confesses. "Well I mean usually she can sense when I need her. She calls it her Spidey-sense. Though what spiders have to do with it I still haven't figured out yet." His brow draws together before he shakes his head of the thought, continuing, "She's kind of flighty and unpredictable. You never really know when she'll pop in, _if_ she—"

Arthur's words are interrupted by a puff of blue smoke that appears from out of nowhere. To say it catches everyone off-guard would be an understatement.

Red watches in amazement as the cloud of magic clears to reveal a tall, slightly older blonde.

"Woah." the woman utters, clearly dazed. She shakes her head lightly, one hand resting against her temple. "Talk about a head rush. You'd think I'd be used to it after all these years."

Red's eyes fit up and down the blonde's body (not in_ that _way of course, she has her own blonde thanks). She was wearing the strangest tight fitting outfit Red's ever seen on a person and her hair was pulled back in a side ponytail with some kind of a band wrapped around her forehead.

The woman lifts her gaze, realizing she had several pairs of eyes on her. She looks them up and down, and taking in their clothes, groans, "Crap. Did I poof myself to Comic-Con again? My bad."

Then she notices Arthur and smiles in genuine surprise. "Oh! Aaron, it's you! I thought my ears were burning!"

Arthur opens his mouth to correct her but she rambles over him, "One minute I'm letting rip this big ol' powerful sneeze and next thing I know I'm here. And sorry, excuse the spandex." she says, gesturing to her blue and grey ensemble. "Just finished up my jazzercise class." She pats the back of her neck with a towel. "Totes worked up a sweat."

"Funny how magic works." Arthur nods, trying to redirect her attention. "Merlin—"

"Abel, what have I told you about that name?" she sighs, placing a hand on the young King's shoulder. "Call me Holly, remember? 'Merlin' is _so_ 13th century."

"It's Arthur."

"Right. Yeah." Holly scoffs lightly and shrugs off her blunder. "That's totally what I meant. So what's crackalackin, my main man?" she wonders smiling brightly, before nodding over at the others. "These your friends? It's about time you got some of those. I was beginning to worry about you."

Snow, of course, takes the opportunity to properly introduce herself. She walks right up to the blonde and holds out her hand. "Hello, I am Snow White."

"Mini Streisand!" Holly grins, slapping her hand before shaking it. She looks at the brunette closely, amused. "Hey, your eyes are no less crazy in this realm. Huh. I guess that's like a permanent thing of yours."

Snow frowns questioningly, like the rest of them, not following. "I'm sorry have we met before?"

"We will...one day, maybe." Holly smiles vaguely. "Depends how things go."

Snow raises her brow. "So you really can travel through time?"

"Hells yeah, sweet cheeks." the older blonde confirms. "The future's awesome. Speaking of which I gotta update my Twitter. It's been like five minutes already and if I don't post something soon, my followers will think I died. Or worse, was sent back to rehab with Lindsay Lohan...again."

Red can only stare blankly at the woman, honestly with no idea what the hell she was talking about. Glancing back at the others, she sees that...yep, they're all just as clueless looking as she feels.

Well at least she wasn't the only one.

Holly whips out some kind of metal device from her top and begins tapping away at it, only to stop in realization.. "Man, I always forget." she sighs. "No wi-fi here whatsoever. _Lame_." Her face twists up as she tears her gaze away from her metal square, wondering, "Wait. What am I doing here again?"

"I thought you said she's the most powerful wizard in the realm." Red hears Mulan says to Arthur under her breath.

Overhearing this, Holly shoots Arthur an incredulous look. "Woah, _Artie_!" she whispers out of the side of her mouth, leaning toward him slightly. "I know I told you to be my hype-man, but tone it down, would ya? Sure I'm totally awesome but I'm not like the Michael Jordon of wizardry. Shaq, _maybe_. Kris Humphries on a bad day."

Everyone in the room exchanges quizzical glances. "Who's Michael Jordan?" Rapunzel mouths to Red, who shrugs unknowingly and returns her gaze to the kooky blonde. Well, the _other_ one.

"But you can see into the future _and_ time travel." Arthur reminds, making Holly concede to a smug grin. "True that." she nods.

"I've never even heard of that being possible." Arthur continues, to which Snow pipes up, "Not even my step-mother, the Evil Queen, has that power. Or at least to my knowledge."

"Doesn't mean she doesn't have her own set of mad skills." Holly shakes her head, shivering slightly at the mention of the Queen. "Man, that woman is four loko in the coco."

Arthur looks between the group and then back to Holly. "We thought maybe you might be able to help them, ah, _deal_ with her."

"Ha. Yeah, right." Holly snorts. Then, after realizing he was being serious, stops and shakes her head firmly. "Oh no way. Uh-huh. No way. Nope. There's a reason I don't hang out in this land much. Aside from the whole no electricity or Taco Bell thing. That chica es muy nutsy cuckoo."

"She's not the only one." Red mutters under her breath, earning a mild warning look from Elsa. _"What?"_ she mouths, shrugging her shoulders. It was true.

She felt like she was trippin' balls standing here while 'Holly' rambled about shit no one could understand.

Arthur frowns deeply. "But you were able to defeat Madam Mim, and she was powerful. Can't you do the same to Evil Queen?"

Okay. What the fuck is a _Mim?_

Is that some kind of slang? Or code? Red has half a mind to grab her two blondes and walk right out of this joint. This was getting ridiculous.

Holly rolls her eyes and snorts. "Mim is a puppy compared to the Evil Queen. When we fight, it's no biggie. It's just harmless stuff we use fill the void when we're bored, or pmsing. Besides that Meanie Queenie is a hella lot smarter than Mim, no offense to my purple haired homie."

Arthur's face screws up in confusion. "I thought you hated her."

"_Hate_ is such a strong word." she drawls out disapprovingly. "Sure we don't see eye to eye with each other, both figuratively and literally -" Holly shoots them a look. "Seriously I'm like five inches taller than her - but I've got mad respect for that demented banshee. She's like an evil version of me, minus all my awesome."

Snow's expression falters. "So you can't help us...at all?"

"You can't even turn the bitch into a damn toad or something?" Robin frowns skeptically.

"Woah, woah woah, take it easy." Holly's hands fly up. "Don't you go getting any crazy ideas that magic will solve all your problems. Cause fyi it won't."

Noting some of the distressed looks directed her way, she feels the need to add, "What ya'll need to do is chill out." she sighs. "Be mellow. Toke up."

"What does that even mean?" John frowns quizzically.

"Yeah how can we be mellow when an Evil Queen is out there making everyone's lives a living hell?" Jack questions sharply. "I mean, she forced Snow out of her own castle and took over her family's throne—"

"Not to mention she kidnapped Elsa's sister." Red adds.

"Okay now you guys are bringing me down and that's so not cool." Holly says, pulling a face. "Look," she tries again. "Despite all the crap going on now, everything's gonna turn out just fine. Trust me. I mean that curse is really not as bad as it seems—"

"_C__urse?_" A collective double-take occurs among the group.

Holly's mouth forms an 'o' shape. "_Oh_...has that not decided on that yet?" she cringes. "Well then...never mind." She shakes her head quickly, waving it off. "Just pretend you didn't hear that."

"What curse?" Red demands, stepping forward much like Robin and some of the other guys were doing. If there was something coming, they had a right to know about it.

Holly feigns ignorance and covers it with an awkward laugh. "What what in the what now? Look guys as _fun_ as this has been," The blonde claps her hands together and points upward. "I really gotta go. I gotta be...well, anywhere but here. Later clase."

And just like that, gone.

"What the hell just happened?" John asks, after a moment.

Red snorts, for once sharing the same sentiments as the giant man-turd. Turning to Elsa, she poses the question, "Did I accidentally eat some weird funky mushrooms the other night during the full moon? Because I'm pretty sure they kicked in _just_ now."

"Well that was complete waste of time." Snow huffs, arms folding across her chest.

"Yet oddly entertaining." Rapunzel muses aloud.

"Okay," Mulan slowly turns to the rest of the group, along with Shang. "So we'd thought she'd be a _little _more useful."

"She is." Arthur insists, speaking up in Holly's defense. "...sometimes."

Robin shakes his head in disbelief. "How you became king with that chick as your mentor is beyond me."

"You and me both." Arthur nods, scratching his temple.

Red rolls her eyes and shifts her stance, staring at them expectantly. "So now what do we do?"

"We take matters into our own hands." Snow sniffs, not one to be deterred. She whips around suddenly. "Arthur, do you have somewhere where we may delegate?"

"Uh, y-yeah." he nods. "I just had a big round table put in the council room."

—

"What exactly are you proposing?"

"A rescue mission." Snow answers confidently, the only one standing at Arthur's round table.

Distantly, Elsa thinks _she_ should be the one leading this discussion, asking for help, considering she was the reason this whole thing started. It was _her_ sister who needing the rescuing.

But every time she tried to muster up the courage to stand and take charge, she only worked herself up with more anxiety. It's ridiculous, she knows - being a queen she should have no trouble publicly speaking - but alas here she was, with ice encrusted fingernails digging into her palm.

Fortunately for her, Snow has no problem playing team leader; she just loved to run her mouth.

"You're talking about the Evil Queen's castle, the most guarded fortress in all the lands." Mulan reminds, albeit unnecessarily.

"To be clear it was _my_ family's castle long before it was ever hers." Snow corrects in a sniff. "And I happen to know it like the back of my hand."

Mulan shakes her head from across the table. "What you suggest requires an army."

"No armies." The words leave Elsa's mouth before she can even think to say them. Feeling everyone's eyes shift onto her, she swallows hard and nods. "They're too conspicuous. And I don't want anyone outside of what is necessary getting hurt. Besides this isn't some kind of declaration of war."

"Isn't it?" Mulan challenges with a quirked brow.

Elsa sighs heavily. "I just want my sister back."

That's all she wanted. But, of course, it wasn't that simple. "I don't want to drag my kingdom into this if I can help it." Her lips purse together as she pauses. "But I already know in the back of my mind I probably can't." she says thinking out loud at that point.

The only way to get her sister back _and_ avoid a war was to stop it before it could even happen. Or, in other words, she had to take out the Evil Queen.

Something which was all but impossible.

"And how to do you expect to rescue someone without an army?" Shang questions, brow furrowed. "I mean, with any other castle it could be done but hers?"

Snow resists the urge to roll her eyes. "Come now." she sighs, exasperated. "We are a group of highly skilled thieves, warriors, and royals...and a werewolf." she adds belatedly, noting the indignant look Red shoots her. "Surely we can manage on our own."

Mulan exchanges a frown with Shang before raising her brow back at Snow, reminding slowly, "Uh, we never agreed to help you."

Elsa cringes internally at the short brunette's bewildered expression; to be fair she had kind of just _assumed_ they'd offer their services.

"I just thought—" Snow recovers quickly and shakes her head dismissively.

"This doesn't just affect me." she starts again, in earnest. "It will affect everyone. You can guarantee it won't be long before she decides to come after all the other kingdoms. She'll want control of everything. Of everyone. We have to do something before it's too late and all hope is lost. If we pull this mission off, it could be the stepping stone we need to set things in motion—"

"One fucking thing at a time, Snow." Red interjects, knowing she had to bring the girl back to reality before she got too far ahead of herself. Which she often does, Elsa can attest. "Our main goal is getting Anna out of that damn witches' lair."

"Regardless, we _need_ help."

"To say the least." Mulan mutters. To which Shang agrees, "You'll need a strategy. A good one."

"Not to mention group training. Have you guys even worked as a team before?" Mulan doesn't even wait for a response, knowing their response already. She shakes her head. "Thought so."

"Will you please help us?" Elsa implores, knowing they had no reason to but needing the support. "I'm not asking you to join us, just if you could give us some advice, feedback. You two seem to have experience with this kind of matter."

"That we do." Shang confirms.

"So will you?" Snow inquires, her brow lifting hopefully.

"Eh," Mulan raises her shoulders and exchanges a look with her companion. "It's not like we have anything better to do. Things have been kind of..._uneventful_ around here." She offers a sympathetic smile toward the young king. "No offense Arthur."

Arthur rolls his eyes in response. "_Sorry_." he says sarcastically, waving his hands a little. "If I'd known you'd found Camelot so boring I would have picked a fight with a fire-breathing dragon to entertain you during your stay."

Mulan just narrows her eyes, but by the way her lips quirk up slightly, it all seems to be in jest.

"What about you, Arthur?" Snow inquires, forcing his attention back onto her. "Would you be willing to help us?"

Arthur's smile falters. "Well, I don't know how I can." he admits, shrugging unsurely. "I mean," His gaze flits around the table. "I'm no hero. I've never destroyed some great evil or saved anyone before. Or done anything remotely helpful. I'm just a random kid who happened to pull a sword out of a stone. And even then I can barely hold the thing up and that's with _two_ hands—"

"That's what he said." Elsa hears Red snicker beside her, prompting her to frown disapprovingly.

Granted she know what that meant exactly, but if it had Red amused it was surely something crude.

"You're a good king, Arthur." Mulan asserts seriously, frowning at his self-doubt. "You're fair and you're kind..."

"Hard-working and smart." Shang finishes with a firm, but admiring, nod.

"Okay, okay." Elsa turns her head in time to see Red rise from her seat, obviously made bored - and a little disgusted - by the display of friendship. "Before you guys run off to partake in what will probably be the blandest threesome ever—"

"Red." Elsa hisses quietly, mortified. Again, she didn't know what a threesome was but it sounded beyond inappropriate, and probably was.

Red crosses her arms unapologetically, clearly resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "We need to get our shit together." she tells the group point blank, taking away Snow's moment as team leader, for the time being. "And stat. There's no time to waste. A girl's life is at stake."

Elsa's stomach sinks at the reminder.

"First things first, we're gonna need a map. We need to know how far the Queen's castle is from here and all the routes leading in and out of it." Red turns her head. "Snow, since you know the interior best, work with Rapunzel. She can draw it out - we need as good an idea as we can get of the entire castle, inside and out. The more we know, the better off we'll be."

Red stops, noting the surprised looks on everyone's faces. "What?" she scowls defensively. "I read books. I know how this shit works."

"We'll need to learn how to cooperate, work together as a team. Train." Shang brings up.

As the others began going over what else they would need to accomplish, Elsa feels the need to speak up, "How long will this all take exactly? Like Red said we haven't the time to waste."

"My step-mother won't hurt Anna until you do what she asked of you before." Snow assures knowingly. "It's the reason she took Anna in the first place. She won't stop until she gets what she wants. Me."

"Which is why this rescue mission has to be done covertly." Mulan states firmly. "No confrontation. We get the girl, get out, then from there we proceed how best deal with the Evil Queen _at another time_. Once she realizes the girl's gone, she'll know exactly who came and got her." she says, gaze traveling back to Elsa.

"Right. Which is why _I_ suggest..."

Elsa places a hand to her temple and sinks back in her chair as the sound levels in the room rise, everyone trying to voice their opinion of what exactly they should do only to end up just talking over each other noisily.

"Hey." Elsa grudgingly turns her head to the side. "Everything's going to work out." Red promises, her hand sliding over hers and squeezing it reassuringly.

Elsa forces herself to smile, meanwhile thinking in the back of her mind, _Yes, but at what cost?_

—

Elsa strolls down one of the hallways, her arms loosely crossed over her chest, and exhales deeply. It was late evening now and everyone else was still holed up in the King's council room. They'd all eaten, of course, but none had really rested since their arrival. The matter at hand was not one anyone took lightly, knowing that to be accomplished successfully, required a great deal of strategy.

Everyone was determined and surprisingly cooperative, bouncing ideas off of one another and talking out various scenarios, brainstorming and whatnot. And while appreciative of their dedication, after a while Elsa was in need of a moment to herself. It was starting to get a little too much for her in there.

_Could they really handle this?, _she wonders, moving aimlessly through the castle. She sighs to herself, unsure. They were all too old to be considered children but really were any of them adults? Could they take care of this on their own?

And what about that curse Holly - er, _Merlin?_ \- had mentioned? If there was any truth to it they were all in trouble.

Infiltrating a castle was one thing, but taking on a curse?

With a grimace, Elsa pushes the thought from the forefront of her mind.

_Worry about one thing at a time, Elsa_, she sighs. Anna. Anna. Rescue Anna...

(One's thing for sure, once this was all over and done with she was not letting that girl out of her sight ever again).

Worry flaring up in the pit of her stomach again, Elsa squeezes her hands tighter, feeling the ice creeping through her veins.

Breathe.

Just breathe.

It was agreed their mission would be a covert one as Mulan had suggested early, or a "rescue and run" as Robin called it, and Anna was the priority. Directly dealing with the Queen could wait (if they could help it, that is).

Honestly Elsa didn't care what the tactic was as long as the end result was the same, and that she was actively apart of it in some way. She would _not_ be staying behind contrary to what some of the others wanted.

Shang and Mulan were particularly concerned about her not so discreet abilities and the control she had, or lack thereof. (To be fair though she hadn't exactly answered confidently when they'd asked about her power over her magic).

Which is why she didn't take offense to their apprehension. She knew better than anyone how deeply tied her powers were to her emotions and considering they were trying to rescue Anna as inconspicuously as possible - if she was unable to keep it together for whatever reason, she could end up being a liability to the mission.

But, as much as she worried about being problematic, she couldn't _not_ go.

Anna was her sister, and it was her fault she'd been taken, therefore it was her responsibility to get her back.

Distracted by these thoughts, Elsa continues around the corner without really paying attention, leading her to be nearly run-down by Robin Hood.

Gasping, both rear back instinctively, narrowly avoiding a collision.

"Woah, sorry there snowflake." the archer apologizes, fumbling slightly with all the food he was carrying.

Elsa shakes her head dismissively. "It's fine. But please don't call me that." It felt inappropriate hearing that nickname come from anyone but Red.

"Oh. My bad."

Meanwhile her gaze slides down to the loaves of bread, wedges of cheese, and what looked to be half a ham in his arms.

Robin follows her gaze, then explains, "It isn't stealing if I'm a house guest."

Elsa lifts her gaze, slightly amused. Dinner had finished little over an hour ago but if she's learned anything from hanging around a group of boys - er, men - for these past couple of days, it's that they were _always_ hungry.

Robin juts his chin out at her questioningly. "You going somewhere?"

"Just needed to go for a walk." she answers, lightly shaking her head.

"Well, would you like me to walk you back?" he offers, casting a glance around. "This place is pretty tricky to find your way on your own. Took me like half an hour just to find the kitchen."

Elsa nods in agreement. Admittedly she'd lost her sense of direction a while back and going with Robin seemed like the wise choice, lest she wanted to spend the rest of her evening roaming the halls alone. "Yes, thank you."

Robin starts them off in the direction she had just come. They walk in relative silence. They haven't known each other long and they aren't what you called 'close' but Robin already seems to understand how she works so he doesn't try to push the idle chit-chat. Not that he himself was a chatterbox either, but nonetheless she was grateful. Her mind was still elsewhere anyways, off worrying.

"You know you shouldn't worry so much." Robin speaks up after a while, snapping her out of her thoughts. Feeling her gaze, he looks over at her and nods affirmatively. "We got this."

Elsa blinks her surprise. Apparently he was much more observant than she realized. That, or she was just incredibly easy to read.

"How can you be so sure?" she finds herself asking quietly. His confidence, while unsurprising, was puzzling to her. Surely he had to have _some_ doubts?

"Cause I'm Robin Hood." he answers with a light scoff, his smile smug. "I don't fail."

"There's always a first for everything." she feels the need to point out, her uncertainty left unappeased.

"Taking things is my specialty." Robin maintains. "Granted I've never taken a person before." he chuckles.

Her lips quirk in spite of herself. "You'd be returning her, technically."

"True."

It isn't long before she feels her smile falter, the silence leaving open space for the worry to find its way back to the forefront of her mind. "Have you even gone up against Black Knights before?" she wonders, turning back to Robin seriously.

"More times than I can count." he confirms, though not plagued by it. "Those suckers are everywhere. And they're not as intimidating as you'd think." he adds with a pointed stare, which she supposes is for her benefit, to put her at ease. "They're just a bunch of nimrods. Ones I've faced aren't even that great a fighters."

"What they lack in skill they will make up in volume though." All forces have their strengths and their weaknesses, she remembers her tutor once said.

Robin snorts derisively, nearly rolling his eyes. "They suck and we're gonna kick their asses. End of story." he says finally. He pauses for a moment before adding, "You know you should try being a little less negative and a little more positive."

"I'm not being negative." she frowns, feeling a hint of defensiveness surge through her. Even though Robin may or may not be right. "I'm just pointing out facts."

"Yeah, negative ones." he scoffs before allowing his eyes to narrow questioningly. "Aren't princesses supposed to be a all sunshine and rainbows, always thinking happy thoughts?"

"I'm not a princess."

"Well that explains it." his expression equally deadpan.

Elsa rolls her eyes and Robin chuckles. "But seriously." he prompts, getting back to what he'd been saying. "Worrying about all the bad stuff that can happen...it doesn't do a lick of good."

Elsa chuckles bitterly to herself. "You sound like Red."

"You gonna tell me that's a bad thing too?" he teases, stealing a sidelong glance at her.

Elsa rolls her eyes at him, smiling in spite of herself.

"I doubt myself more than anything." she confesses shortly thereafter, her expression settling. "Which I know I can't keep doing, especially now. Too much is at stake. My sister is counting on me."

Robin doesn't say anything, silently encouraging her to continue. "I have a...gift." Her voice falters slightly, the word feeling dishonest on her tongue. "One I have to be able to control and utilize if I'm to properly defend myself."

Robin looks over at her. "I've seen you use your powers - you don't seem to have any trouble in that department."

"When I'm not thinking about it," _When I'm with Red_, she silently adds. "Things are easier. But when I'm under pressure and stressed, sometimes my control isn't all there. I get too inside my head and it just...gets out of hand."

Literally.

"You said it yourself, fighting is going to be inevitable and-"

"You're not a fighter." Robin finishes with a knowing nod. "That's okay. It's not like you're gonna be out there on your own. You'll have us to back you up. Your girl especially isn't gonna let anything happen to you."

Elsa shakes her head, unwilling to let the mental images of Red putting her before herself seep into her mind. She had enough eating at her thanks. "I don't want anyone else risking their lives even further because I can't properly handle things. I'm capable of defending myself, I know it, I just...I need practice." she huffs. "Do you think you can help me?"

Robin frowns. "Help you? Like, practice your powers?" he clarifies.

Elsa nods, feeling meek all of sudden. "We are infiltrating the Evil Queen's castle after all. Don't you think it would be wise? I mean contrary to what you might think I don't have that much experience being attacked."

Robin chuckles slightly. "I know but why not ask your girl to help you out?" he wonders, his brow furrowing. "I mean, not that I'm scared of you or anything. Red, _on the other hand_..."

"I'd be too concerned with accidentally hurting her to focus." she responds, her insides clenching as the memory of her accidentally striking Anna with her powers, freezing her heart, flashed through her.

Robin raises his brow. "But you're okay with hurting me?" he scoffs.

Elsa frowns. "I'm not _okay_ with it." She pauses, then sighs apologetically. "I don't mean to come off as callous. I do care about your well-being. But you're the most skilled one in the group..."

"Hell yeah I am." he smirks.

"And fast acting." She nods. "And I just thought..." she trails off unsurely, doubt already starting to sink in. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. "It's just a suggestion. You don't have to if you don't want to, or if you don't trust me I completely understand-"

"Hey, I trust you." Robin interjects. "You're our best bet to defeating that wicked witch when the time comes, not to put any pressure on you. And anyways I'm always up for a challenge. Besides we're a team. We gotta help each other out any way we can." he says, extending his fist to her with his free hand. "Right?"

For a split second she's confused. Then she remembers. "Oh. Fist bump!" she blinks. "I know that." she says with a slight smile.

Curling her hand, she lightly bumps knuckles with Robin's while he looks on with a raised brow.

"You know for a queen you're kind of a dork." he says once they drop their hands.

Elsa can't help the self-conscious frown that settles across her features. "Just because I'm a queen doesn't mean I don't have faults."

Robin just smiles. "Never said being a dork was a fault."

Elsa's expression shifts, relaxing. "Thank you." she smiles gratefully after a moment. "I really appreciate it."

Robin just shrugs. "Just promise me something, would ya?" She looks back at him curiously. "During these little training sessions...just don't freeze my junk off, okay?"

Elsa bites back a smile. "I can't make any promises." she confesses, meeting his gaze.

Robin rolls his eyes. "Funny."

"I'm serious."

—

Elsa lays in the darkness, waiting for sleep to come. She closes her eyes and patiently waits for it, but her mind, while tired, is too busy thinking to be bothered with rest.

Beside her Red and Rapunzel are out like lights and for that she envies them. She can't remember the last time she had a solid night's sleep. She's had her good nights of course but even then to the average person they were still far from peaceful.

Elsa stares up at the scarlet canopy above her head. It was the same shade as Red's cloak, which also served as the dominant color for the whole of the room. (It's the reason Red claimed it as theirs in the first place).

Elsa hadn't cared about the color initially - after all it was a color she was quite fond of as of late - but at this hour she finds herself wishing for another room. All the red was eerily reminiscent of blood and she just...

Once it came to mind, it was hard to unthink it, is all.

Elsa covers her face with one hand and pinches the bridge of her nose. The wheels in her head will not stop turning and the stress of it is eating at her sanity. Her mind keeps over-analyzing all the strategies they've managed to come up with thus far and all their possible outcomes, which leads her to thinking about repercussions...And god she has to be able to protect. Defend. She can't screw this up. She can't have any casualties. She just can't.

Feeling her muscles start to tense, and a sharp pang of anxiety spike through her stomach, Elsa carefully unwraps Red's arm from around her waist and slips out of bed. She had plans to meet with Robin Hood anyways once everyone was asleep, she'd just been biding her time.

Before leaving though, she turns over her shoulder and dusts a kiss to the sleeping girl's cheek. Thankfully Red doesn't awaken. She hadn't mentioned to Red that she'd asked Robin for help, knowing she'd just have a fit about her spending time alone with him.

Elsa quietly changes out of her nightgown and into her 'normal' clothes, then slips out into the hallway.

It takes a few wrong turns before she's able to find the room she and Robin had settled on earlier. She had naturally wanted to practice outside, far from anyone for the obvious reasons. The last thing she wanted to freeze Arthur's castle, but Robin wouldn't have it. _No safety nets_, he'd said. _You either sink or swim._

Fortunately Arthur hasn't been king long so many of the rooms have remained untouched from the last with the furniture covered up and pushed to the sides, forgotten about.

As Elsa draws back the curtains on the last of the windows, the door opens and in comes Robin with his usual swagger, with a shield and a familiar sword resting casually on his shoulder.

And by familiar she means something Arthur _just_ showed them today. The sword from the stone. Excalibur.

The most powerful sword in the realm with the ability to cut through anything. Or so the lore goes.

"Where did you get that?" she instantly wonders. She highly doubted Arthur just let people walk off with his beloved sword.

Robin rolls his eyes at her accusatory tone. "Relax. I'm only borrowing it. Artie won't know it's missing anyways. He's dead asleep."

_Oh good, he'd only stolen it while the king was asleep_. Elsa thinks dryly.

She's already managed to make an enemy of one queen and a Southern Isles prince, why not add the king of Camelot to the list?

Hopefully - for both their sakes - Arthur would not take Robin's theft too seriously.

"Maybe we should start with something a little less lethal?" she suggests, admitting swallowing hard at the way the metal blade glinted maliciously in the light. "Something that can't slice a limb off?"

_My_ limb off?

Robin resists the urge to roll his eyes again. "Chicks." he mutters, grudgingly relinquishing the sword. "Fine."

Watching him gather his bow and arrow, Elsa fiddles with her hands. To be honest she wasn't quite sure what to should do first, or er, how to start. "So, should we...?"

Robin stares back at her. "First thing to remember: Don't think. Just do."

_That_ he says right before shooting an arrow directly at her face.

It comes at her so fast she doesn't even have time to think about conjuring her powers. Yet there the arrow is, suspended in midair, mere inches away from her nose, frozen solid.

It falls to the ground the second she blinks, wherein she realizes belatedly that she'd actually stopped it herself.

After staring at the arrow somewhat dazed, her gaze snaps back to Robin incredulously. "You could have killed me!"

Robin shrugs unapologetically. "If you're looking to be coddled, I ain't your guy."

"I _wasn't_ ready." she huffs, eyes glaring.

"You said you needed to practice using your powers defensively." he reminds, scoffing a little. "You think those Black Knights, or the Evil Queen for that matter...or any of your other future enemies are gonna _wait_ for you to be ready before trying to kill you?"

Though Elsa knew he had a point, she can't help but cross her arms indignantly. "Ever hear of baby steps?"

Robin snorts, rolling his eyes that time. "Sink or swim, princess." he reminds.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

In fact his unorthodox teaching seemed like a _terrible_ idea. The more she thought about it, the more she realized just how much this whole thing was just asking for trouble.

"Hey," Robin must have sensed her second thoughts. "Don't you go letting that crazy self-doubt suck you back in."

Elsa exhales softly. "Bad habit." she murmurs, casting a downward glance.

"You know what I do with bad habits?" he prompts, forcing her to meet his gaze. "_I break 'em_."

Another arrow is released.

...and sent clattering to the ground.

"Stop doing that!" she snaps, her voice raised.

Robin shakes his head defiantly, another arrow already at the ready. "You're doing great." he says, firing it off.

She swipes the arrow away unthinkingly. "You went for my throat that time!" she accuses.

Robin has the audacity to chuckle, making her frown deepen. "I knew you were gonna stop it. No big deal."

"No big deal he says." she echoes, shaking her head in disbelief. "We keep this up and you may end up killing me. Or worse I _you_."

"We'll it's a good thing you've got a younger sister to take your place on the throne." He smirks, then pauses. "Oh, wait. She's kind of unavailable at the moment." His smile broadens at her wide-eyed expression. How dare he taunt her! "All the more reason not to screw up."

"As if I needed any more pressure put on me!" she scoffs, anger simmering.

"That's all your doing." Robin shrugs. "Not mine."

"You're a horrible teacher."

"I'm an outlaw," he snorts. "What do you expect?"

—

Red's body is sprawled out across the bed, her head burrowed under the pillows. She's dead to the world, sleeping dreamlessly, with drool pooling under her mouth.

She's not sure when exactly she awakens; all she knows is that it's a slap to her ass that gets her sleeping self to snap out of it.

"—up, up, up!" a sing-songy voice chants. "C'mon, Red. You've slept long enough."

Straightening up, Red shifts around only to be blinded by the sunlight unleashed by the just drawn curtains.

She can't look away fast enough.

"Ugh." she groans, her head dropping face first back into her pillow.

"C'mon, Red!" Rapunzel walks away from the window and leans forward across the bed, giving her a vigorous shake.

It takes a few tries before Red lifts her head again. She peers around through grouchily squinted eyes. "Where's ma snowflake?" she mumbles, realizing belatedly that her other blonde was nowhere to be found.

Rapunzel looks over at her and laughs. "Elsa is with the others holed up in the council room, you know talking strategy and whatnot." She shakes her head with a quiet sigh. "I really hope by the time _I'm_ queen I won't have to deal with any evil queens kidnapping my loved ones. All this planning and prepping...it's way too intense."

Rapunzel turns back to her, willing those thoughts away. "You missed breakfast."

Red watches as she walks over to the nightstand where a silver covered tray had been placed. "Why didn't you guys wake me?" she wonders, blinking through bleary eyes.

"Elsa was gone long before I woke up and I didn't have the heart to wake you." the blonde shrugs, uncovering the plate of hot food and passing it over to her. "You looked so peaceful...in that drooling, snoring kind of a way." she chuckles.

Red narrows her eyes in a mock glare. "Bitch, you and I both know I don't do any of those things."

Rapunzel just snorts her disagreement, pulling back after she takes the plate.

"I can't help it if I was tired," Red continues. "'sides it feels damn good sleeping in an actual bed again." And this one was like a legit cloud no less.

"Preach." Rapunzel kneels down on the bed before sitting down cross-legged at the foot of it, watching as Red digs into her food. "I like camping outside as much as the next person but nothing beats a real bed."

Red nods in agreement, hungrily scarfing down her breakfast. "So...do you need to tell me something?" she hears Rapunzel ask.

Red pauses. She chews thoughtfully around a mouthful before swallowing, "Whatdoyamean?"

Rapunzel rolls her eyes. "You? Elsa?" she prompts, brow raised in response to her confused frown. "You're together now right?"

Red chokes a little on her next forkful of eggs. There's a moment of internal panic. She and Elsa hadn't told anyone about them yet - not that they were ashamed or anything (cause they definitely weren't...or at least for Red she wasn't). It just never crossed their minds. After all this new relationship of theirs was barely even a few days old.

"How'd you know that?" she asks in spite of her better judgment.

"It's so obvious." Rapunzel chuckles, scoffing lightly. "I mean if I thought you guys were moon-eyed over each other before..." she trails off with a teasing eye roll.

Red doesn't say anything to the contrary (not that Goldilocks would believe her if she did), nor does she confirm it. She had no idea if Elsa wanted to keep their new status hush-hush or not.

But, _then again_, this was just Rapunzel she was talking about. She wouldn't go blabbing anyone if they asked her not to.

"Relax." Rapunzel says, snapping her out of her uncertainty. The conflicted look on her face must have been obvious. "I'm not gonna tell anyone. _Not that I'd need to_." she murmurs, smiling to herself.

"Rapunzel." she warns.

"All I can say is it's about time." To put her at ease Rapunzel lightly bumps her shoulder, teasing, "I can already see the baby snow wolves now."

Red shifts uncomfortably, her imaginative mind flashing to a visual of a bunch of little wolf pups running around sneezing snowflakes. "...Let's uh, not go there, alright?" she says, awkwardly clearing her throat.

Red shakes her head, silently willing the image away, and sets her plate aside. Then scoots off of the bed. "I'mma go find Elsa."

Rapunzel gets up as well. "I gotta go too. Mulan wants to show me some defensive techniques. Not that I need them really. Which reminds me!" The blonde pops up and skips over to retrieve her trusty frying pan out of her knapsack. "Wait 'til she sees what I can do with this! She'll be so impressed!"

"She won't know what hit her." Red dryly agrees, barely concealing a smirk.

After changing into a fresh pair of clothes, Red sets out to find her blonde. Using her nose - the only way she's gonna find her in this damn maze of a castle - she heads outside where she is eventually led to the stables.

Elsa's busy tending to her horse when Red comes around. She's able to slip into the stall unnoticed, unsurprisingly. She knew as soon as she laid eyes on the blonde that Elsa's attention was elsewhere. She was sporting that familiar distant expression she only gets whenever she's deep in thought.

Red moves to stand on the other side of Sitron, directly across from where Elsa was brushing him.

"Your thinking's so loud I could hear it from the castle." she informs. A soft chuckle escapes her when Elsa jumps in surprise.

"Red," Her hand flies her heart. "I didn't even hear you come in."

"What can I say?" Red shrugs, smiling smugly. "I've got mad skills."

"You shouldn't sneak up on me." Elsa murmurs, once she recovers from the mild start. Her eyes shut as her muscles begin to relax, her body calming down. "I could hurt you."

"No, you couldn't." she disagrees, sighing silently. A part of her had hoped she'd gained a _little_ more self-confidence after the other night in the forest; it'd felt like they'd made progress to her.

Red shakes her head, in the back of her mind knowing she had to have better patience and understanding. Red returns her gaze to the steed before her. "Needed some fresh air?" she guesses, figuring it was the reason Elsa was out here.

(Though the air in here wasn't all that _fresh_ if you asked her).

"Yeah." Elsa faintly nods. "How did you sleep? Well I presume."

Red nods, continuing to pet Sitron. "Yeah..." she trails off, noticing for the first time the tiredness in the blonde's eyes. "You look tired. Maybe you should go lie down for a while."

Elsa discreetly turns away with a shake of her head. "I didn't get much sleep last night. But I'm fine." she assures.

Red watches her closely, not necessarily doubting her but sensing suddenly that she kind of smelled different. And it wasn't just because of the horses.

Her nose scrunches up.

"You've been hanging around Robin Hood?" she wonders, clearly able to pick up on the archer's scent for some reason.

"No more so than the others."

Red purses her lips together in a frown. She couldn't ignore the sinking feeling she had that something was being left out and, of course, that led her to assume the worst.

"You know you can tell me anything, snowflake. Right?" she finds herself saying with some hesitance.

Elsa looks over at her curiously and nods in acknowledgment. "I know."

Red, not one to live in uncertainty, takes in a fortifying breath before continuing, "Look if you're having second thoughts about us being well, an _us_, just tell me. I won't mind. I mean I'll mind of course, cause I like you a lot, but I won't hold it against you or nothing."

Elsa frowns in confusion, not understanding at first where she was coming from. Then, when it clicks, her eyes widen. "Oh, Red. No!" With a frantic shake of her head, she assures, "Robin's...I'm not...he's just been helping me."

"Helping you?" she echoes skeptically.

Elsa nods, ducking her head in embarrassment. "He's helping me practice using my powers defensively." she admits with a sheepish sigh. "I just don't want to have to rely on you or anyone else to keep me safe when we go to retrieve Anna. I want to be able to handle myself without fear of losing control."

Elsa holds her gaze and shakes her head in earnest. "There's nothing going on between Robin and I." she adds with a gentle smile, the very idea amusing in the most ridiculous sense.

Red exhales deeply. "Okay." she nods, though still had a few unanswered questions. "But why wouldn't you tell me about it? And why didn't you ask me to help you? I mean, I know a thing or two about kicking ass." she says seriously, not trying to be smug this time around.

"I didn't want to risk hurting you."

"_Elsa_—" she sighs.

"The people I love always get hurt because of me." the blonde quietly interjects with a shake of her head. "My parents. Anna. I just..." Her eyes fall shut for a second. "I don't _ever_ want to have to add you to that list."

Red stares at her searchingly. She'd thought they'd already proven that Elsa wouldn't ever hurt her. Maybe...there was more to it than that?

Uncertainty clouding her judgment, her gaze drops to the brush in the blonde's hand. She watches it glide across Sitron's coat.

"Are you sure you weren't just afraid of me hurting you?" she asks, voicing the thought right as it comes to her. It was understandable if that was the case. After all what was she but a temperamental werewolf? Did Elsa worry she might get too worked up - _provoked?_ Is that why she didn't ask for her help learning how to fight?

"What?" Elsa frowns, taken aback. "Of course not." Her features soften as she takes in Red's less-than-convinced expression. "Red, I don't see you as any more of a threat than say...a gopher."

"Wow way to kill my ego." she mutters dryly.

Elsa shakes her head. "What I'm trying to say is you don't scare me. _I_ scare me."

Sighing, Red comes around the other side of Sitron to join her. "When are you going to realize you have nothing to be afraid of?" she wonders, quietly coming closer. "Elsa, you've proven yourself time and time again you have control of your powers."

"A lifetime of self-doubt doesn't just go away like that, Red." she reminds, not unkindly, as her gaze flickers downward. "In spite of the progress I've made."

Red blows out a breath. "I know that." She shifts uncomfortably, unsure of how best to put her next words. The last thing she wanted was to come off sounding insensitive. "I just...I want so much for you." she eventually manages out. "I want your pain to go away, you know?"

Beneath the girl's composure was that lingering state of anxiety and fuck, Red just wanted it gone already. She hated it. Hated how conscious she was of it, as if it were her own emotional state. She couldn't even begin to comprehend how worse off Elsa had it, and it bothered her to no end.

Was it selfish of her to feel that way? Maybe. But it made her feel like she was letting her down. Of course she knew she couldn't force snowflake's wounds to heal but she could help and though she knew she was helping her, she still felt like there was more she could be doing. She just didn't know what. Maybe if she'd had more people experience growing up she wouldn't be so fucking clueless...

"Hey." Elsa gently touches her chin and redirects her gaze, effectively surprising her. It's not often she initiates touch. "The pain does go away. Every time you're with me, it does."

Red musters a smile even though those words alone weren't enough to quell her unease. She didn't know why but ever since they became like, a couple, she's been feeling increasingly vulnerable to her own insecurities.

"You just being with me is all I need." Elsa maintains, holding her gaze. "Don't feel obligated to fix me, okay? Because there's no quick fix and I'm—"

"Fixing implies there's something wrong with you which there's not." Red quietly interjects. "I just want to help you heal." _And I really don't want to let you down._

"You do that every moment of every day." Elsa reminds with a tender smile. "Even when you don't think you do. You give me such strength and support, help me in so many ways..." she trails off with a shake of her head. "I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

Red brushes a loose strand away from her face. "Your smile is more than enough."

Elsa ducks her head in embarrassment. "Careful now, Red." she starts, reciting her own words from the other night. "You wouldn't want to go inflating my ego now, would you?"

Red chuckles softly. "Eh. If it happens, it happens." she murmurs, leaning down to dust a kiss to her cheek. "Your inflated ego can keep my inflated ego company."

She pulls back, still smiling to herself.

Elsa notices. "What?" she wonders curiously.

"It only takes a small kiss for you to turn redder than my cloak." she smirks, admiring the girl's pink tinged cheeks.

"I'm still getting used to it." Elsa shrugs, trying to distract from her blushing face. "_Us_, I mean."

Elsa lifts her head, meeting Red's gaze. She hesitates momentarily before rising up and planting chaste kiss to her lips.

A gesture that catches Red so off-guard it makes her whole face burn hot.

"Good to know I'm not the only one." Elsa chuckles softly, satisfied with her reaction.

"I'm not blushing." Red denies with a scowl. "Must've come in contact with poison ivy or some shit." she mumbles, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. As _if_ she could wipe her blush away.

She rolls her eyes at Elsa's lingering smile. "Whatever." she huffs. "Come on, let's..." she trails off unknowingly before nodding at Sitron who was contently eating his hay. "Go for a ride."

Elsa glances over her shoulder, brow furrowed quizzically. "But you hate riding." she lightly scoffs.

"I could think of a hundred other things I'd rather do, yeah." she concedes with a nod. "But you like it."

And okay...so she kind of, maybe, wanted to get away from the castle for a little while - before someone came around looking for them and spoiled their alone time.

Elsa bites down on her lip. "As much as I'd like to, we should probably get back." she eventually sighs. "It's rude for us to be away for so long, considering all the others are doing to help us, especially Arthur, letting us stay here and utilize his kingdom's resources. The least we could do is be present."

Red rolls her eyes, barely able to suppress a groan. "We'll make it up to him later with a fruit basket or something. "Or better yet, you can build him his own talking snowman. But make it a girl so he'll have a girlfriend. Cause's he's definitely not getting anywhere with girl Asian anytime soon. Not with boy Asian and his abs of steel in the mix."

Elsa quirks one of her perfectly arched brows. "Been checking out Shang have you?" she teases.

"I may have happened to glance his way once or twice yesterday when he was doing his martial arts out in the courtyard," she shrugs, acknowledging the fact. "But it wasn't that interesting. My abs are _way_ better."

Red smirks at how fast Elsa's blush returns. "C'mon," She brushes past the blonde and picks up Sitron's saddle. "Lets go before my good sense kicks back in."

Shortly thereafter, Red finds that riding a horse isn't _that_ terrible when she's sharing one with her girl. They venture out beyond the castle grounds, far enough for some privacy, but of course staying within the kingdom limits.

"You're getting better on horses." Elsa comments after awhile, glancing back behind her.

"It's the company." she smiles, chin resting against her shoulder, her hands wrapped securely around her waist.

Elsa turns away with a smile of her own and gestures to the secluded forest area they found themselves in. "Is here good?"

Red peers around and straightens up a little. "Yeah, it's perfect." she nods - though not that she really cared where they stopped.

Elsa gently pulls on Sitron's reins until he slows his pace to a stop. Waiting on Red to get off first, she peers over her shoulder expectantly. "Are you going to...?"

Red tilts her head and presses her lips gently to Elsa's, answering her with a kiss. There's no particular reason for it, Elsa was just so close and honestly she just couldn't help herself.

Elsa pulls back slightly and raises her eyes up to meet hers. "You like catching me off-guard today, don't you?" she murmurs breathily, a little dazed.

"Just a little." Red keeps her arms wrapped around her as she presses back in again, this time parting her lips just a little. It's a lingering exchange that leaves her insides feeling all warm and tingly and she knows it's so sappy to describe the feeling as such, but it's pretty damn accurate.

"You okay?" she asks Elsa when their lips part.

Elsa nods timidly.

"Then _breath_." she chuckles, lightly nudging the blonde's cheek with her nose. "I won't be able to kiss you again if you pass out on me."

Elsa bites down on her bottom lip. "Maybe you should kiss me again then." she suggests, her eyes dancing with a hint of mischief. "So I get used to it."

"Like practice?" Red smirks, raising her brow.

"If I've learned anything lately it's that a little practice never hurt." the blonde innocently shrugs.

Red laughs at this and steals another soft kiss from her. "Let's get down first." she says, placing one last kiss to the side of her head.

If they were gonna get their sweet lady kisses on, she sure as hell didn't want it to be on a horse. That'd be like a threesome.

Shifting her weight, she carefully dismounts from Sitron, then turns back around. She's just about to help Elsa do the same when suddenly her ears pick up on a distant cry for help.

Red stops and looks over her shoulder in the general direction from which she'd heard it, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"Red?"

She just about reverts her attention to Elsa, only to be distracted once again by another cry for help. Only this time it was louder.

"Hear that?" Elsa asks, finally able to pick up on the sound of thundering hooves.

"Yeah." In the same instance that she nods, a horse comes barreling down the dirt road across the way, with a teenage boy on its back hanging on for dear life.

Before Red can even think to move or react, Elsa's horse is taking off full speed. Red nearly stumbles to the side, having been resting her hand against Sitron's back prior.

What the-?

She does a double-take. "Hey, wait up!" she calls after the blonde, her legs already propelling herself into the chase.

Even on foot she's lightning fast and able to catch up to Elsa with relative ease. Fortunately by the time she does, Sitron was slowing down, Elsa having successfully pulled the boy off his petrified horse and onto her own.

Red can't help but raise her brow.

Well hot damn.

Who knew deep down _her_ snowflake was a regular Prince Charming. Er, Princess - no, well _Queen_ Charming, technically.

Huh. That doesn't quite have the same ring to it...

Whatever.

The point is that Elsa playing lady hero was super freaking hot.

"Are you alright?" she hears Elsa ask of the boy, snapping her out of her daze.

Red comes around and automatically helps the poor kid down from Sitron. "Thanks." he gasps, doubling over onto his hands and knees once she releases him.

If she didn't know any better she'd say he looked to be about ten seconds from kissing the ground in relief.

"HEY!" demands a muffled, unseen voice.

Red looks around, bewildered, her ears of course picking up on the sound.

"Oh, crap!" exclaims the boy, quickly sitting back on his haunches and reaching into the inside of his jacket pocket.

Red watches in a state of suspended disbelief as he pulls out a small green frog. "Are you okay, T?" he asks it worriedly.

"I'm alive, ain't I?" the disgruntled frog snaps. "What the hell, boy? I thought you knew how to ride a horse."

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Red murmurs to Elsa, both of them unable to take their eyes off the _talking _amphibian in the boy's hands.

"I said I knew how to ride _a_ horse." the boy corrects, still speaking to his little green friend. "My horse Phillipe from back home. It seems I was mistaken. If you can ride one horse you _can't_ ride them all."

"If I'd been a fish I would've died with all that shakin' going on." the frog huffs, no less appeased. Her glaring gaze slides over to Red and Elsa. "And _who_ are they?"

_For a frog she's got a mighty lot of attitude_, Red thinks distantly. "Better question is who are you?" she retorts, shifting her arms to across her chest.

"Red." Elsa warns quietly from beside her. "I'm Elsa." she says politely, turning to them both. "This is Red."

"I'm Bell." the boy nods.

Red snorts, unable to help herself. "What the hell kind of name is Bell?"

Last she checked that was a girl's name and this kid, though uncharacteristically pretty and his voice unusually high, was definitely a boy.

"What kind of name is Red?" he questions in return.

Her eyes narrow in warning. "Don't even start, ladyface."

"It's short for Bellamy if you must know." he sighs, rolling his eyes.

"Still sounds like a girl's name." she mutters, exchanging a look with Elsa.

"Your so-called name is a _color_."

Red's just about to really let the boy have it when Elsa smoothly intervenes. "Who are you if you don't mind my asking? Are you headed somewhere in particular? Maybe we can help."

"Yeah, and what's with the frog?" Red adds in, eyeing the weird little creature warily.

"I am not a frog." the amphibian exclaims indignantly, rising up on her hind legs. "I am a human being, damnit!"

Red quirks her brow disbelievingly, gaze flickering up and down her little green body. "Really cause you're looking pretty froggy to me."

"This is Tiana." Bellamy sighs, expertly catching the girl before she could jump out of his grasp. "And she really is human. It's just..." he trails off with a glance directed at the frog. "At the moment she's kind of cursed."

"Cursed?"

"Cursed." Bellamy confirms with a slight grimace. "By a witch doctor."

Tiana waves a dismissive hand, not wanting to get into it. "It's a long ass story."

"But we just escaped from the Evil Queen's Black Knights." With a dip of his head, he gestures to himself. "Hence the tattered appearance."

"We were captives." Tiana, the frog, clarifies, rolling her eyes at her friend's concern for his wardrobe.

"How the hell did you escape them?" Red wonders. After all that was no easy feat.

Bellamy smiles sheepishly. "I read a lot of adventure books growing up." he explains.

"Who knew _The Tales of Flynn Rider_ could be so helpful." Tiana nods, still very much surprised by that fact.

"Knowledge is power, T." Bellamy smirks, stealing a sidelong glance at her.

Elsa's brow knits together in confusion. "Why were you turned into a frog?" she wonders.

"I put my trust in the wrong guy." Tiana crosses her arms sourly. "Let's put it at that."

Bellamy ignores her. "We have to figure out how to undo this magic."

Tiana follows his gaze and nods, eyeing them tentatively. "Ya'll wouldn't happen to know anything about undoing curses, would you?"

Elsa's expression falters apologetically. "No, sorry."

The only person Red could think of who possibly had that kind of power was Merlin - er, Holly - whatever the fuck her name was, but she holds her tongue. No one, not even Arthur, had seen or hear from her since she dropped in unannounced the other day, so needless to say she wasn't exactly what you called reliable, and Red wasn't about to get Lady Face and his lady frog's hopes up.

She wasn't _that_ messed up.

"Do you know what kingdom we're in?" Bell inquires, looking around with a furrowed brow.

"Camelot."

Bellamy sighs in dismay. "I have no idea if that's even near my home."

"Same here." Tiana murmurs, the territory just as unfamiliar.

"Come with us." Elsa offers, oblivious to Red's disgruntled frown. (Part of her had been looking forward to sending those two on their way and getting back to exchanging sweet lady kisses with Elsa). "You can recoup at the castle." the blonde assures. "We are friends with the king. You'll be safe there."

"Thank you." Bellamy smiles gratefully.

Tiana nods politely, apparently in agreement, before whispering behind her hand, out of the corner of her mouth to Bellamy. "Boy, how the hell do we know if we can trust them?"

"Watch it, frogger." Red scowls, having heard the girl - er, frog...frog girl - clearly. "For all we know you two are like serial killers."

"Come now, Red." Elsa sighs, rolling her eyes at her.

"What?" she shrugs, frowning deeply. "They could be."

"We're not killers." Bell says in exasperation. "I assure you."

"Elsa, can I talk to you for a second?" Red inquires through smiling teeth before dragging the blonde out of earshot. "We can't bring them back to the castle," she hisses quietly, eyes wide. "Are you insane?"

Elsa yanks her arm from out of her grasp, frowning unappreciatively. "You're being ridiculous, Red." she huffs, smoothing out her dress. "They're harmless - for goodness' sake one of them is a _frog_."

"She could be a poisonous frog!" Red exclaims as quietly as she can. She scoffs at the way Elsa shakes her head at her. "There is always more to people than meets the eye. You and I are proof of that!"

"Which is exactly why we should give the benefit of the doubt and help them." Elsa maintains calmly, her gaze flickering past her. "They've obviously been through a lot and could do with food and rest."

Red eyes them warily for a second before whipping back around. "For all we know they didn't even escape from the Queen's men. They could be like, spies! She could have sent them here to find you!"

Elsa crosses her arms disbelievingly. "How on earth would she know to send them here?" she inquires, her head quirked.

Red resists the urge to roll her eyes. "She's the _Evil_ Queen. She's got her freaky ways."

"Well I believe their story. Now if you'll excuse me." Elsa brushes past her without another word, leaving Red to groan internally and trudge after her.

_God damnit, snowflake._

—

Red picks at her salad, bored and hungry for non-plant food. She's a fucking wolf and she needs meat. Not leaves.

Stabbing at the lettuce, she twirls it around with her fork, with no real intention of eating it. But since she's a guest she has to at least act like she's been eating it - even though all she's done is push it around her plate.

Where's the main course already?

Red glances around the dining table inattentively, partaking in neither of the conversations going on around her.

She's not much of a people person and she'd already exhausted her socializing efforts for the day. Not that she particularly cared about joining either conversation at the moment. To her right was Elsa in the midst of some kind of boring, diplomatic discussion with Snow and Arthur, and to her left the rest of the group was getting to know their new dinner guests, Frogger and Babyface.

Her distrust of them had settled after realizing upon closer scrutiny that they were harmless...not that she'd tell Elsa that. Snowflake didn't need to know she was right.

Looking over, Red shakes her head to herself. She was still getting over the fact there was a _talking frog_ sitting on the table and everyone acting like it was totally normal.

Then again from what she's heard of everyone, they've all seen weirder shit.

"—so this witch doctor rolls into town and goes around claiming he can tell people their fortunes and make their lives better and whatnot. Now I'm real skeptical right but in a short amount of time it was like, everyone I ever knew was going to him with their problems and getting them fixed." Tiana shakes her head as she recalls the story. "Eventually my curiosity got the better of me, because deep down I hoped he could do the same for me and help me out, ya know?"

Red rolls her eyes. Well no wonder she got herself turned into a frog. Talk about naive. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to go around hitting up strangers?" she sneers.

Tiana glares back at her for a second. "She did but my foolish ass didn't listen." she informs, her expression faltering. "_Anyways_," she starts again, reverting her attention. "The man straight up tells me that, to make all my dreams come true, I gotta kiss a little bitty frog. Claims it's really a prince."

"Well that doesn't at all sound like something out of a real lame bedtime story." Red deadpans, loud enough for Rapunzel to hear next to her.

Which is why the blonde slugs her thigh under the table.

Jerk.

"Well did you do it?" John asks, referring back to Tiana.

"Obviously she did." Robin snorts, glancing over at his best friend. "How else do you think she got all slimy and green?"

"Uh," Tiana holds up a froggy finger. "It's not slime. It's mucus, fyi. And yeah, I did do it. But _in my defense _the witch doctor was real persuasive and I was real unhappy at the time. Tired of being alone and waiting for all my hard work to pay off...I just thought if I do this, maybe things would get better. Her head shakes in embarrassment. "Next thing I knew I _was_ the frog. And the frog I kissed turned out to be some douchebag prince in cahoots with the witch doctor. I should've known better." she sighs. "The only one who can ensure my happiness is me. Ain't nobody else gonna get if for me."

"It's okay, T." Bellamy comforts. "We all make mistakes."

"I stole from giants." Jack offers. "It was pretty stupid of me."

"Innocent people got hurt cause of me and my stupidity." John murmurs, shooting an apologetic glance Red's way, which she did not miss. But her expression hardens in warning anyways. She didn't need him bringing _that_ up in front of the others.

Not when she had ready access to a fork and knife. You know, sharp things.

"I once smacked Red in the face with a frying pan." Rapunzel offers, distracting everyone from his comment. "Accidentally, of course."

"That explains a lot." Robin mutters under his breath, earning a glare from Red.

"Watch it, bird brain." she growls, resisting the urge to bare her teeth. "Or I'll..."

The threat dies on her tongue when she feels a cool gentle pressure against her hand.

Elsa.

Red looks over and sure enough, snowflake was fixating her with a mildly reproachful stare. "Be nice." she whispers, leaning into her slightly.

"Nice is overrated." she grumbles stubbornly.

"So what about you, Bell?" Rapunzel asks. "How'd you and Tiana become friends?"

"Well it started with my father." he breathes, trying to condense his story. "He was wrongfully imprisoned for trespassing by this horrid beast of a man. When I came looking for him, I offered to take his place since my father's been having health issues and I wasn't about to have him rot away in some dungeon. But it got to the point where I couldn't do it anymore so I ran away. On my journey back home is when I happened across a certain talking frog in need of help." Bellamy smiles across at his friend.

"But mind you I was no damsel in distress." Tiana points out, her hands resting on her hips.

Bellamy blinks at her. "You were being chased down by a hawk."

Pause.

"...ok so there was a _little_ distress going on." Tiana concedes with a roll of her eyes.

"So how did you run into the Queen's knights?" Mulan inquires.

"I got caught stealing what T thought might be a reversal potion from the witch doctor's shop." Bellamy explains. "And of course, since the Black Knights are everywhere these days, they more than happily threw me in their traveling jail cell. Tiana stayed with me though." His eyes dance with appreciation as he looks down at her. "She didn't have to, but she did."

"I figured I got him in the mess, it's gotta be me to get him out of it." Tiana shrugs, stating, "Friends don't abandoned friends."

"Preach!" Rapunzel smiles, looking back at Red, remembering how if it hadn't been for her she'd still be locked in that tower.

Red smiles faintly and indulges the blonde in a proud fist bump with her free hand. Her other hand was securely interlinked with Elsa's under the table and has stayed that way since they sat down. Red liked the contact, liked how it was just between them. She especially liked the smile she got out of Elsa whenever she unexpectedly reached for her hand.

Fortunately for them she's left-handed and Elsa's right-handed so they're able eat and still hold hands without trouble. Nobody except Rapunzel knew they were together and if they did they opted to keep their comments to themselves. Even if they didn't she wouldn't really care. It made no difference to her. It's not like her feelings for Elsa would change.

"How did you two meet?"

Red's gaze snaps up, her heart seizing for a second, before realizing Bellamy was talking to Mulan and Shang.

"I tried to make a man out of her." Shang answers unthinkingly. His eyes widen, realizing how that had sounded.

Mulan rolls eyes, albeit good-naturedly. "It's a long story. But to be clear it ends with _me_ saving our kingdom."

"I helped." Shang frowns, looking back at her.

Mulan lightly scoffs, reminding with a pointed stare, "Only after you realized you were being a stubborn idiot and I was right."

Shang resists the urge to roll his eyes. "Forgive me for not trusting the word of a girl who pretended to be a guy to just join the military!"

"I did it to save my father's life!" Mulan shoots back.

That time Shang does roll his eyes. "_Heere we go_..."

"So are you two together or what?" Tiana inquires, head quirked to the side, gaze flickering between the two of them.

Mulan snorts and stabs at her lettuce with her fork bitterly. "He said 'I fight good'."

"That's not even correct grammar." Bellamy frowns.

"Right?" Mulan nods, her eyes wide.

"Well at least I didn't say you fight good _for a girl_. Not that I ever would because that would imply you don't fight well. Which you don't. I mean you _do_. I mean, you fight just as well as any man. Not that that's surprising." Shang swallows hard, finishing lamely. "Lots of women fight...good."

"Okay," Tiana holds up a hand, her eyes shutting momentarily. "I'm gonna ask you to stop because I'm starting to get embarrassed for you."

While everyone cracks up in amusement, the tips of Shang's ears turn red. Mulan, after noticing this, smiles and lightly nudges his arm to put him at ease.

"I really wanted to say lot more." he mumbles in earnest, pushing through his embarrassment. "You fight well, but more you're more than that...you're brave and smart. And kind and loyal. A person as amazing as you I've never met before."

Mulan's expression softens considerably by the end of his little speech, for all the table to see, resulting in a bashful smile to creep up onto her face.

It's all so disgustingly cute that, had she actual food in her stomach, Red would've been sick right then and there.

"Well hot damn." Tiana raises her brow, impressed. "The boy does have game."

In spite of herself Red cracks a smile. Her eyes find Elsa's own. "They're cute, aren't they?" the blonde whispers to her, glancing back at the pair fondly.

Red shrugs. "Eh," She smiles out of the corner of her mouth as she plucks an olive off her salad and sticks it on Elsa's unsuspecting thumb. "We're cuter."

Elsa shakes her head with a slight smile. "You're strange." she chuckles, slipping her hand out of hers. The blonde stares at her pointedly. "And I mean that in the best possible way."

"Likewise, snowflake." Red grins, watching the cheeky blonde pop the olive in her mouth. Her gaze lingers for a prolonged moment.

"OH HELL TO THE NO!"

Caught off-guard by the outburst, Red's gaze snaps back around.

The servants had just brought out the next course and set on the table the unmistakable delicacy that is _frog legs_.

Red has to place her fist against her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. _Oh, man. Tiana's face...priceless_.

Naturally everyone turns to Arthur, the host, whose face promptly flushes with embarrassment. "In my defense I did not choose the menu for tonight." he stammers, shrinking back from the intensity of Tiana's stare.

Tiana rests her hands on her hips, unconvinced. "Bullshit."

Robin chews around a mouthful, having already devoured a pair himself. "More like bullfrog." he comments, earning himself a withering glare from Tiana. And a punch in the arm from Jack.

Red snickers quietly to herself. Then shrugs when she finds Elsa staring back at her incredulously.

"What?" she mumbles with an innocent shrug.

It's not like she stopped by the kitchens and told the cook Arthur had a special request for tonight's dinner or anything...

That would be ridiculous.

"Red!"

Red ducks her head, a ghost of a smirk playing across her lips. Apparently she was looking a lot guiltier than she thought.

But nevertheless, "You've got no proof, snowflake."

—

"How long do you think it'll take before everyone starts hooking up with each other?" Red asks out of curiosity, leaning back against the pillows and bed frame. She has Elsa sitting before her, back resting comfortably against her chest.

"What?" Elsa's brow furrows, unsure if she heard right. She'd been a little distracted conjuring snowflakes to humor Pascal.

"What?" Red shrugs, watching as the small chameleon snatches up as many snowflakes as he can with his freakishly long tongue before they evaporated. "You put a bunch of hormonal teenagers under one roof and things are bound to get a little wanky."

Rapunzel lays facing them at the foot of the bed with her head propped up by her hand. "Things have already gotten wanky." she says, giggling slightly. "I mean Arthur clearly likes Mulan but she likes Shang who also likes her. And I'm pretty sure Jack has a thing for Tiana even though she's a frog...which is kind of strange...and then there's Bell who's pretty like a girl but definitely a boy and who I'm pretty sure has a thing for John but who likes Snow, who may or may not feel the same way about him but who also definitely likes Robin, who hit on both of you but you two are off-limits to everyone but each other. And finally there's me who everyone wants a piece of whether they realize it or not - not that I can blame them, I'm all kinds of awesome - but not you guys because Red you're my best friend and that'd be weird if you did want a piece of me and Elsa you're my cousin and that'd be like incest, which would also be weird."

"Okay you've definitely been hanging out with Snow too much." Red laughs while the blonde catches her breath. "You're starting to ramble just like her."

Elsa shakes her head in awe. "How on earth did you pick up on all that?"

"I'm perceptive." Rapunzel casually shrugs. "Not that you aren't." she quickly assures, realizing how that might have sounded. "You're just too busy making eyes at Red to notice."

Elsa blushes pink and Red smiles smugly, unable to resist giving her a lip smacking kiss on the cheek. "Well of course she is. Have you seen me? _I'm all kinds of gorgeous_."

Elsa lightly shakes her head. "Such modesty." she teases, turning and bumping her nose against Red's jaw.

"I try." Red shrugs, smug smile still intact.

Sighing, Elsa straightens herself up and pats Red's leg. "We should get some rest." she says, shifting away to push off the bed. "We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow."

Red's smile fades at the reminder. Unease slowly sinking back down in her stomach. Not out of fear or anything. No way. It was just...well it was one thing to talk breaking into the Evil Queen's castle, a whole 'nother to actually _do_ it.

So yeah, _maybe_ she had some reservations. But that was totally natural; even the most confident, awesome people - like herself - had their moments of doubt.

Not that she worried about getting Anna back - _that_ she was certain of. She was more concerned about herself than anything. Of course, not in that 'oh god, what if I fucking die kinda way?', more like 'oh god, what if I can't keep it together and like, accidentally eat my friends kinda way?'.

The urge to do some damage has only increased over the past few days - not that she'd ever tell Elsa, or Rapunzel, that - with her wolf practically salivating at the prospect of getting to tear out the jugulars of some black knights.

Needless to say she'd be able to wolf out no problem, if necessary, which is why she was regarded as a major asset among the group. But she was a dangerous one, whether anyone would dare say it to her face, and this troubled her. What if she was more of a liability and did more harm than good?

Granted the one perk of wolfing out on non-full moon nights was retaining some human consciousness. (Unlike her full moon turns, there were no blackouts). But that didn't mean her wolf was any less unpredictable, or _controllable_.

A hint of a shiver runs through her at the thought, pulling her from her internal worrying. Rapunzel's in the middle of some anecdote about a cool move Mulan had taught her when she abruptly cuts in, "We're gonna be okay, right?"

Deep down Red knew a part of her needed the reassurance but she still surprised herself by asking it aloud.

Rapunzel stops mid-sentence and Red stiffens slightly. She does her best to ignore the pang of discomfort she feels when the two pairs of eyes across from her meet, then settle on her.

"We have each other, so I like to believe we will." Elsa responds finally, moving closer to her. Red shifts around so her feet are on the floor and closes her eyes for a second when the blonde's right in front of her. Fingers grazing her cheek, Elsa leans down and dusts a kiss right over the same spot.

"Besides we're the good guys." Rapunzel softly adds, drawing Red's gaze away. Her eyes dance smugly at the tender display of affection. "And everyone knows that good always triumphs over evil."

On her shoulder sits Pascal, who nods his little head affirmatively.

There was a long silence, broken with what can only be described as a _poof_. Then a cloud of blue smoke materializes out of thin air right in the middle of the bed. Poor Pascal scrambles behind Rapunzel's hair frightfully as she bounds to her feet in surprise, much like Red does, who stumbles back into Elsa.

"The hell?"

Red's eyes narrow when the smoke clears. Then, when realization dawns on her, she internally groans.

"Holly?" Rapunzel questions, perplexed.

"Hola clase." the older blonde brightly greets, smiling down at them. "Didn't mean to disturb your little threesome." Realizing she was standing on a bed, Holly promptly steps down. "How's it hanging?"

"How's _what_ hanging?"

"You tell me." she shrugs.

"What are you even doing here?" Red wants to know, her arms crossing untrustingly. She still didn't know what to make of this lady, aside from the fact she was all kinds of kooky.

Whether it was harmless kooky, or like, _children-eating_ kooky had yet to be determined.

"I thought you'd never ask." Holly smirks.

While the older blonde shrugs off her bag and begins searching through it, Red exchanges a wary look with Elsa.

Holly lifts her head after spending what felt like half an hour digging through that never-ending bottomless pit of hers. "Mary Poppins ain't got nothing on me." she explains with a sheepish smile, still elbow deep.

Realizing her joke was lost on them, Holly rolls her eyes and pulls out what looks to be small brown leather pouch. "Aha!" she says triumphantly.

"What is that?" Elsa wonders curiously.

"It's magic." Holly smiles brilliantly. "Fairy dust, actually."

"Okay...?" Red trails off not understanding its relevancy.

"Fairy dust is the most precious substance in all the lands." Rapunzel speaks up. She shrugs at the looks of surprise given to her. "Or so I've read."

Holly nods back at her. "Hot stuff speaks the truth." she confirms, opting to toss the brown pouch to Rapunzel.

Reverting her attention, she says, "See? I'm not completely useless. I just won it in a game of Texas Hold'em. Not that any of you would know what Texas Hold'em _was_..." she mutters with a brief roll of her eyes. "Lame."

"Anyways." Holly shakes her head to get herself back on track. "Figured you three could use it on your not-at-all suicidal quest to destroy _la reina malvada_."

Red grimaces at the blonde's cringe-worthy annunciation. White people should be outlawed to speak the spanish language, period.

"We just want to get my sister." Elsa sighs.

"Either way," Holly shrugs, "You can incapacitate just about any enemy with that."

Red comes up beside Rapunzel and takes a look into the pouch for closer inspection. "And you're giving this to us...why? I mean why not give it to Arthur?"

Holly raises her brow. "It's your mission, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Besides teen lesbians are kinda more my jam." Holly blinks. "Wow that sounded a lot less pervier in my head. I totally meant that in non-pedophile way."

"Good to know." Red slowly turns on her heel and shoots Rapunzel and Elsa a pointed stare. "Sidebar, por favor." she mutters out of the corner of her mouth, discreetly jerking her head to the side.

"What is it?" Rapunzel frowns, automatically leaning into their huddle.

"Can we trust her? Like, honestly? Do we even think this," Red holds up the small pouch skeptically. "Really works?"

Elsa shakes her head. "No way of knowing until we use it." she shrugs.

"If Arthur trusts her, I think we should too." Rapunzel says.

Red rolls her eyes. "Well, if Arthur trusts her..."

They barely know the guy!

Nevertheless, Red earns herself a light smack from each blonde.

"Hey!" she scowls indignantly, clutching both of her arms. "Can you blame me? You two aren't exactly the best judges of character." At their indignant expressions, she reminds, "Or did you forget about Mother Gothel and Hans, hmm?"

Both blondes open their mouths to retort only to close, then reopen them. "Shut up, Red." they huff.

The three of them peer over their shoulder to find Holly sitting cross-legged on their bed, eating some kind of wrapped piece of food.

Noticing their staring, Holly smiles around a mouthful and extends her hand. "Taco?"

—

Red stares out at the foreboding castle in the distance, standing with her jaw clenched. The night air is still, weighed down with anticipation. Not wanting to appear antsy - which she admittedly was - she exhales deeply. Again, and again.

As if she didn't already have enough on her plate, she had to deal with her stupid heightened wolf senses picking up everyone's goddamn emotions. See, this is why she doesn't like to fucking hang around people. They were making her a fucking headcase.

(Well, more so than she already was).

Literally the only thing keeping her from bursting out of her skin was the pale hand tucked comfortingly in hers.

"If we're gonna get Anna out we're gonna have to get over that wall." Snow says beside her, lowering her hand-held telescope. She passes the device over to Mulan. "There's a soldier on every parapet."

"Good thing we brought these then." Jack says, patting the length of rope wrapped around his shoulder, the grappling hook hanging behind him.

"Couldn't Elsa just use her powers to bust us in?" John wonders, earning himself a silent eye roll from Red.

"We want to be as discreet as we can for as long as possible." Mulan calmly reminds, though shooting him a look, because yeah, they've been over this already. "Ice in this weather isn't exactly subtle." Her gaze falls back to Elsa. "No offense."

"None taken."

Robin rocks back on his heels impatiently, looking a lot how Red felt on the inside. "So are we ready to do this?"

"We're as ready as we're ever going to be." Shang responds, stepping forward to join Mulan's side. "Mulan and I will head out first. Climb the wall, then when it's clear we'll give the signal for you to follow suit. Keep the noise levels to a minimum."

The group turns their heads collectively to look at Snow, who gapes comically in response. "What? I can be quiet." she insists.

Nobody says a word, just exchanges knowing glances.

After quietly making their way over to the wall, Mulan and Shang throw over their grappling hooks first.

"Try not to die." Snow whispers as they start their ascent, prompting Shang and Mulan to look at each other with barely concealed eye rolls.

Red stares after them apprehensively. Admittedly she was not looking forward to climbing over that wall.

"You okay?" she hears Elsa quietly ask, leading her to avert her gaze.

Red nods wordlessly, though silently wishes the blonde had some traces of panic evident on her face so she didn't feel like she was the only one having an internal freakout here.

Elsa must have sensed her unease with her unusually calm demeanor. "Fear is only going to get in the way of things." she murmurs as way of explanation, knowing how worrisome she usually was in these types of situations. "And I can't afford to mess this up."

Red nods in understanding. "Everything is gonna be alright." she adds, for both their benefits.

"Coast is clear." Robin interrupts the group as a whole, as quietly as he can, waving back when they finally receive the signal from above.

"Good thing I decided to wear pants." Elsa murmurs, pulling on her piece of rope once her hook has securely landed overhead.

"Agreed." Red huffs, pressing one foot against the brick. "I don't care what people say, dresses aren't practical."

"Least of all for rescue missions." Rapunzel says, listening in on the conversation. "Hurry up slow pokes!" she whisper-shouts, already close to the top.

Red shakes her head in awe after the girl disappears behind the wall. "Part lizard that one is." she comments, glancing over at Elsa. "Don't you think?"

"Well that would explain the webbed fingers."

Red snorts a quiet laugh and proceeds to hoist herself up. She rises up slowly, cautiously, once she lands on her feet on the other side. After taking a glance around, she raises her brow, impressed.

Already there were a handful of guards lying unconscious on the ground. She hadn't even heard the clash of swords or any sound that indicated fighting.

Red turns back around. "You guys are scary good."

"Maximum efficiency, minimum effort." Mulan shrugs, lips quirking slightly.

Her gaze having already returned to Elsa, Red doesn't catch how Mulan's smile had faltered suddenly.

Next thing she knows, the young warrior is thrusting her arm forward and unceremoniously pushing her aside. A dagger cuts through the space she'd been standing in; it strikes the soldier lurking in the shadows, barely coming out of the castle turret, right in the chest.

"Nice shot." Robin compliments.

Mulan turns on her heel, unfazed, and unsheathes her sword as a precaution. "We need to keep moving." she declares, nodding her head toward the other turret.

"We'll take care of the grounds." Shang says once they reach the empty courtyard. His gaze flickers around quickly. They were beginning to attract attention. "You two go inside, find the dungeons." he orders of Snow and Elsa. "Take Rapunzel with you."

Elsa's brow furrows in confusion. "What about...?" she trails off, looking to Red questioningly.

Red shifts uneasily under her gaze. She could practically smell the impending danger and while that was a concern for her, her wolf on the other hand, was a different story. It's never been more bloodthirsty.

Something she anticipated, but nonetheless something she didn't want Elsa to bear witness to. That primal side was nothing to be proud of and the only reason she planned to unleash it was to protect her friends.

And rip out the Evil Queen's jugular, given the opportunity.

"I gotta stay here." she says to Elsa who was still waiting on an explanation. "I can make things a lot easier for the group."

Judging by the amount of oncoming footsteps heading their way it was clear they were already outnumbered and could use any advantage they could get.

"Don't worry." she murmurs, catching sight of the blonde's conflicted expression. Red would rather stick to her side like glue but she had to think about what was best for the group. Besides she believed in Elsa wholeheartedly. She's seen what Elsa was capable of. "Don't worry," she says again, wanting the words to sink in. "We got this. _You_ got this."

Elsa nods her head firmly. "Right."

Turning to Rapunzel, she checks. "You got the fairy dust?"

Rapunzel pats the small pouch of fairy dust hanging around her neck. "Safe and secure." she confirms, tucking it under her shirt. It was for emergency purposes only. Hopefully they'd be able to get in and out on their own without having to use it.

"C'mon, guys. We need to keep moving."

"Wait." Before Snow and Rapunzel can take Elsa away, Red grabs her hand and pulls her back. She captures her lips in a kiss, the deepest one they've ever shared.

Once she recovers from the initial shock, Elsa moves her hand to her cheek as she returns the kiss in kind, intent on keeping there for as long as possible.

Red, knowing now was neither the time and place for a prolonged kissing session (as much as she wanted it), pulls away first.

"That better not have been a goodbye kiss." Elsa warns breathlessly.

Red shakes her head, her smile soft. "It was a _'See you in a few' _kiss." she promises. She leans down once more and kisses her lips in parting.

"Don't do anything stupid." Elsa murmurs, reluctantly backtracking away from her.

"Likewise, snowflake."

Watching the three girls take off, Red vaguely hears Jack whisper to John, "See told you they were together. You owe me a gold coin."

She turns around and fixes them with a penetrating glare but the moment is cut short when rushing footfall and shouted commands reverberates around the castle courtyard, alerting them to their company.

Taking a step back, Red steels herself and pushes all thoughts of Elsa to the back of her mind. She had to concentrate and worrying about her would only put her and the others at risk.

As the Black Knight charge right for them, Red unsheathes the sword at her hip. Weapons are raised and battle cries are yelled which just leads Red to roll her eyes. _Yeah, yeah. We got it. You're fucking coming for us, no need to be so goddamn dramatic._

She wastes no time jumping into the fray.

Her strikes were strong and forceful and while she was able to deflect even the best attacks she found herself breathless. The faster the rate of her adrenaline pumped, the tighter her skin felt, almost like it was suffocating her.

Winding her right arm in, Red smashes her elbow into the nose of a solider coming at her from the side. She no sooner takes a step backward before she finds herself face-to-face with another soldier, a crossbow aimed directly her heart.

Fortunately before she can even think to jump out of the way, or before he can cock his fingers and release the trigger, a low grunt escapes the knight and he drops to his knees, dead.

Sticking out of his back was a single arrow, lodged in one of the miniscule areas where the armor did not protect.

Behind the fallen knight runs up Robin, sporting a dubious expression. "You fighting with your eyes closed or what? That guy nearly took you out!"

Red just rolls her eyes. Okay, so sword fighting wasn't her forte.

But hey, she fucking tried, right? She'd just...well she still had hoped that _maybe_ she wouldn't have to wolf out after all. That her fighting would be enough as is.

Yeah, _right_. Shaking her head at her own wistful thinking, Red drops her sword and hastily begins pulling at her clothes.

Robin's eyes widen in alarm. He runs over to her instantly and whips around, defending them both against the knights lunging themselves at them.

"Uh, you plan on distracting these guys with your nakedness?" he inquires distractedly, shooting a knight into another, sending them barreling to the ground. "Not that it wouldn't work."

Red rolls her eyes and kicks forcefully at a random soldier. "You are such an idiot."

Robin looks back at her incredulously. "I'm not the one pulling a Lady Godiva in the middle of a freaking fight!" he shouts.

Red looks past him, a grimace settling on her features. They'd taken care of the first wave of soldiers easily enough but this second one was twice their size, and fast incoming with swords and crossbows in hand.

She exhales deeply, eyes locked on her targets, before striding resolutely past Robin. "Do yourselves a favor and don't get in my way. I might just rip your head off."

Red breaks out in a run. On two legs she jumps, then after bursting out of her skin, lands on four.

—

"Well, I think it's safe to say we woke the whole castle up." Rapunzel whispers breathlessly, daring to peer out from behind the wall they were currently hiding in. A handful of Black Knights run past them unknowingly, weapons drawn, to lend their aide to the commotion going on in the courtyard.

Once they're out of sight, Snow leans out even further. "We're in the clear." she declares after a quick inspection. She steps back out into the open with her bow and arrow poised. "Come on." She nods her head in the other direction. "The dungeons are this way."

Elsa cautiously follows the shorter girl's lead, hands tingling at her sides. They hurry quietly along the empty corridor, taking turn after turn - left then right, then right and left again. _Why were all castles such mazes?_ Elsa thinks exasperatedly, her patience starting to wear thin.

In their haste, they round the next corner unthinkingly, only to come to a near collision with a guard who looked just as surprised to them.

Caught off-guard Elsa, acting on instinct, throws up her hands to protect herself. She freezes him instantly.

"Good job, cuz." Rapunzel praises shortly, not one to dawdle. She grabs onto Elsa's arm and pulls her around the shocked, frost-bitten soldier struggling to move.

Looking back, Elsa knows she shouldn't care about his or any of their well beings, considering they were the enemy and all, but she can't help feel a little remorseful. Regardless of the path they'd chosen, they were still human beings.

"Hey! You there!"

Beside her, Snow releases an uncharacteristic swear as the three of them skid to a halt and scramble in the adjacent direction they were going, more Black Knights popping up...like daisies.

While Elsa haphazardly deflects the arrows being shot at them over her shoulder, they push themselves harder, trying to outrun the soldiers. They wanted to avoid confrontation as much as possible but it seemed inevitable, especially when they accidentally drive themselves into a dead end.

Realizing they have literally hit a wall, the three of them whip around and exchange looks, knowing there was no other way but to fight their way through the swarm surrounding them.

Something which Elsa was none to keen about but was prepared to do nonetheless.

Her gaze unwavering from the soldiers closing in on them, Snow clears her throat nervously. Her voice creeps up an octave. "Elsa, you think you can...?"

Elsa steels herself with a firm nod. _Don't fail me now_, she thinks fervently, eyes shutting momentarily as her hands gather in a semi circular motion. She thrusts her palms outward.

The icy blast she conjures is a little stronger than she intended but it does the job all the same, giving them just enough leeway to rush past the soldiers.

Those in the back who weren't hit as badly chase after them. While Snow shoots at one soldier, Elsa ducks around her and freezes the crossbowman's arrow over her shoulder. Meanwhile Rapunzel is more than okay with a little contact fighting, brandishing her frying pan with as much skill as one would a sword.

Moving in tandem, soldier after soldier is taken out, dropping like flies against the stone floor. Once their rivals were all incapacitated, Rapunzel, Snow, and Elsa pause to catch their breath. They allow themselves only a moment before turning back on their heels. They could rest later.

Elsa only just turns around when something catches her ankle at the last second, prompting her to stumble forward with a small yelp.

"Well, well, well your majesty." Elsa peers over her shoulder where one of the soldiers at her feet turns out to be not-so unconscious. It takes her a second for her to place those familiar glinting blue eyes and curly hair. James, the soldier who had served as the Evil Queen's representative in Arendelle. "Long time no see." he grins darkly. "How's the family?"

And with that remark, Elsa whips around and breaks his nose with her heel.

Unfortunately, her moment of self-satisfaction is short lived as James recovers quickly. Before Snow can help her to her feet, he whips out a small dagger and drives it through the back of her leg. With a cry, Elsa hits the ground.

"Hey!"

_Thud!_

Pulling the blade out through gritted teeth, Elsa looks back to see Rapunzel standing over James' now very unconscious self, clutching her frying pan. "Asshole."

Rapunzel steps over the body and drops to her knees where Elsa had slumped to. "Here." She tears the sleeve of her shirt and begins wrapping it around Elsa's leg before she can say anything.

"I'd heal you myself, but..." Rapunzel trails off, gaze flickering behind her to where Snow was preoccupied fending off the few new soldiers in their company. "We really don't have time for singing." she eventually finishes, hoisting her upright with one arm. It's times like this Elsa forgets how freakishly strong her cousin is. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah." As Rapunzel takes her arm and puts it over her shoulder for support, Elsa discreetly ghosts her other hand over the back of her leg, sending a cooling sensation over the wound to numb the splitting pain.

"We're nearly there." Snow assures breathlessly, meeting them halfway. And with few arrows left.

"Let's get out of here before they come to." Elsa glances back at the number of bodies left in their wake. Had she not been in such pain she probably would have felt a little more bad about it.

As they help her continue forward, Snow stops at the last second and ducks out from under her arm. "Wait."

Exchanging questioningly glances, Rapunzel and Elsa watch over their shoulders as Snow walks back over to James' unconscious body.

Both their brows lift of their own accord when the short brunette delivers what sounds like a solid kick to his side.

When Snow returns to them, she meets their curious stares and explains stiffly, "He once threw eggs at me."

Elsa and Rapunzel watch the girl walk away in a huff, then glance back at each other. Wordlessly it's decided that now was not the time to question it.

—

Red claws her way through the fray like a bat out of hell.

Savagely, her teeth rips limbs from bodies and it's such a gratifying sound - that of flesh tearing like a worn seam. She can taste the blood in her mouth but does not think anything of it, other than how good it was and how she wanted more.

The wolf's rivals quickly cottoned on to the extent of her brutality and were longer actively pursuing her. Well the smart ones anyways. The other, delusional ones, still continued their vain attempts at taking her down.

_Those_ were quickly disposed of. And those that were avoiding her at all costs...well...if they weren't going to go after her, she had no problem going after _them_.

Somewhere in a distant part of her mind, it occurs to Red that it couldn't have been a pretty sight, any of it, but the wolf was in control now and was out for blood. It knew what it had to do and, however tempting it was to just rip into any and every warm body within reach, it thankfully knew its rivals from its comrades.

In spite of her large size, she easily evades those with the crossbows aiming for her from a distance. She's much too fast for them, striking like lightning before they know what hits 'em.

She rips wildly at one particular soldier, tearing through the armor like it was paper.

"-AARGH!"

With a turn of her head, she stops and releases the carcass, as well as a menacing snarl, as she bounds over to where one of the Merry Men was trying - and failing - to overpower a soldier twice his size.

Before any hurt can come to him, she clamps down on the soldier's neck with her jaw and for a moment she relishes in the snapping sound that ensues.

So damn fragile.

"Thanks, Red." the guy stutters - his name escapes her at the moment, not that she ever cared to remember it. Quickly he scrambles away, obviously grateful but at the same time scared out of his mind of her in this form.

As he should.

Reverting her attention, she stares out into the sea of clashing swords and flying arrows, the wolf vibrating with the urge to pounce.

Before she can though, she feels something sharp cut through her shoulder, catching her off-guard. A pained whine escapes her involuntarily and her front leg buckles suddenly under her weight.

Fuck.

Her ears had picked up on the whir of noise but with all the arrows being released through the air, she didn't think to pay it a second thought.

Red scrambles to keep herself upright even as the pain soars through her body. Her head jerks backward, teeth snapping it vain to get the arrow out from her shoulder. Normal arrows had a tough time penetrating her tough skin, all but bouncing off her instead, which meant this one had to be laced with some kind of silver. It would explain why it fucking hurt so much. Silver was lethal to werewolves.

Red's not even conscious of the fact she'd momentarily blacked out until she finds her eyes opening but seeing through human eyes.

Wait.

She's human again, she realizes belatedly, as someone pulls her to her feet.

"Hey, you okay?"

Red blinks slowly as she lifts her head. God, she feels so out of it all of a sudden. The exposure to silver mixed with her sudden wolf to human turn did not make for a good combination. "What do you want, Bigfoot?" Her scowl deepens when John's response is to drag her into a nearby alcove.

"Fuck." she mutters under her breath, grimacing because yeah, wolf healing was fast but not nearly fast enough.

"Sorry." she hears John breathlessly apologize. "Had to get you out of the line of fire." He looks over his shoulder quickly again before handing what she realizes is her clothes. "Here."

Red winces slightly, keeping herself propped up against the wall. She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to breath, trying to ignore the blinding pain. "I don't think I can turn back again." The arrow was out thanks to John but the silver still had a lingering effect.

"It's fine." John assures, standing with his back toward her, shielding her from any onlookers. "You did more than enough for us out there." It takes her a few seconds but eventually she musters the will to throws her pants, then tunic, back on.

Peering out from behind his gigantor frame, Red glances back at the courtyard. The fighting had died down significantly, with more Black Knights on the ground than standing. She'd taken a significant chunk out of their numbers.

Literally.

Red licks her lips unconsciously, still able to taste the blood.

"We can take it from here." John continues, adjusting the grip on his crossbow. Out of the corner of his eye he notices her stand upright with grimace. "If you can go find the girls. I'll cover you."

While she has every intention of doing just that, she can't help but look back at him warily.

"Why are you doing this?"

She can't say she's ever given him a reason to be so...nice.

"We're a team." John answers simply. "Here." Turning, he unsheathes his sword and passes it to her. "You sure you can handle it?" he checks, eyeing her shoulder with concern.

Red snatches the sword indignantly. "Of course I can." she sneers.

"We go back out on the count of three?" he suggests, brow raised.

While she nods in agreement and steels herself, she feels the need to add, "Don't think this makes us friends or anything." she murmurs.

John looks at her, then away, a slight smile on his face. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Red just rolls her eyes.

—

Elsa hurries down the barely lit corridor, her heart hammering painfully in her chest. In spite of her inital hesitance, she could now truly appreciate her decision to practice exercising her powers, otherwise she might have passed out from the exhaustion of it all already. Her body, so accustomed to suppressing her powers, still wasn't used to exerting them to this extent.

Moving on her own now - relying on Rapunzel for support had only slowed them down - Elsa determinedly ignores the sharp-shooting pain in her leg. She was too close to rescuing her sister and she would not let something as trivial as a cut, however deep, get in the way of that.

_Conceal, don't feel._

"Hey! You there!"

Elsa slows her pace at the sight of two dungeon guards standing across the way, weapons at the ready. Her impatience having pushed her beyond the point of caring, Elsa waves a glib hand before shots could be fired, knocking the crossbows out of their hands with a gust of stormy wind. She then directs her attention downward and freezes their feet together in one solid block of ice. She casts a thick sheet of ice over their mouths to prevent them from calling for help.

"Make sure they don't get free." she says to no one in particular, the guards hastily trying to hack away at the ice with their blades though finding little success, before taking off once more, disappearing around the corner.

While she runs down the length of the aisle-way, her eyes frantically dart back and forth between cells for a glimpse of strawberry blonde hair.

If she wasn't here...

Panic beginning to flood through her, Elsa staggers to a halt, a sharp intake of breath barely escaping her. _Oh God. What if she wasn't even here?_

Then.

"Elsa! Elsa!"

Desperately, Elsa whips around, seeking out the voice that called her name. When her eyes finally land on her baby sister, Elsa's sure her heart bursts with joy.

Anna, as shocked and relieved as she was, all but jumps out of her skin as Elsa makes her way over to her.

"You're here!" Once she's close enough, Anna reaches out and latches onto her through the bars to ensure this wasn't just some cruel illusion. "I was beginning to think I'd never see you again!"

"Like I'd ever abandon you like this." Elsa laughs, her eyes watery with tears of pure happiness.

While Snow hurries with the guard's keys, Elsa questions more concernedly, "Are you alright, did she hurt you?"

Anna shakes her head. "No, thankfully. But she's a real nasty piece of work..." Anna trails off, distracted, noticing Snow's presence for the first time. "Who's your friend?"

"Snow White." Snow steps aside after successfully getting the door open, providing Anna the opportunity to barrel through.

Elsa can't pull Anna into her arms fast enough. For once her mind doesn't fret about the possibility of hurting Anna with her powers. All that concerned her was that her sister was finally safe.

Having been standing patiently off to the side, Snow clears her throat after allowing them a lingering embrace. "At the risk of being rude, I suggest we continue this reunion a little later. We have to get out of here before the Evil Queen—"

The words die on her lips as a cloud of purple smoke materializes out of nowhere, enveloping Anna. Startled, Elsa lunges forward in concern, only to sharply rear back.

When the magic clears she finds herself suddenly face to face with someone who was _not _her sister.

The woman before her quirks her head inquiringly toward Snow. "Before the Evil Queen _what_, my dear?"

Snow's mouth works to speak but no sound finds its way out.

The woman, who Elsa could only assume is the one and only Evil Queen, chuckles darkly at her step-daughter's sudden muteness. Her gleaming smile is the last thing Elsa sees before they're all whisked away in a haze of purple smoke.

—

Red's sprinting down the underground passageway when she's forced to skid to a halt, the scent she'd been trailing - _Elsa's scent_ \- suddenly having evaporated into thin air.

"The hell?" Red mutters, whipping around, then back again. Perplexed, she stares across at the length of the corridor she had still to go. The dungeons were just ahead; she could have sworn Elsa...Even if she'd gotten Anna and left, how the hell did her scent just up and disappear on her?

Red, so caught up in this conundrum, doesn't even realize someone was rounding the corner until she finds herself being quite literally run down.

"Ooof!"

Red hits the ground. Her eyes widen when she sees who exactly had tried to knock her into next week. "Rapunzel!"

"Red!" Rapunzel cries in equal shock before throwing herself into her arms delightedly.

Red fights a cringe as her shoulder cries out in protest. Fortunately Rapunzel pulls away quickly.

_Unfortunately_ she all but takes Red's arm out of her socket the second she was back on her feet.

"C'mon!" Rapunzel exclaims, suddenly remembering why she'd been in such a hurry. "We have to go! You have to help me...we gotta...she took..." While the blonde proceeds to ramble in panic, Red gingerly takes Rapunzel's insistent hand off her arm. "I-I never should've left them alone! We have to go _now!_"

"Woah, Blondie. Breathe." Red grips her shoulders firmly, forcing her to snap out of it. "Focus. Now what exactly's going on? Where's Elsa and Snow?" Red's gaze flickers past her, half expecting them to come bounding around the corner too. "Did you find Anna?"

"I-I thought we did." Rapunzel says shakily, struggling to keep her eyes dry. "We were in the dungeons and I was keeping a look out, making sure the guards didn't break free. Snow and Elsa went ahead to grab Anna but they were taking so long...when I checked they were gone...the other prisoners said the Queen took them away..."

Red feels her stomach drop. Well at least she knew why Elsa's scent suddenly changed course on her.

"Ugh." Rapunzel bemoans, obviously upset with herself. "Who's bright idea was it that I hold onto this anyways?" From beneath her shirt, Rapunzel heatedly pulls out the pouch of fairy dust Holly had given them. "Elsa, or Snow should have been holding onto this!" Rapunzel shakes her head in frustration, aware of just how useful it could be to them now. "I should have given it to them. Why didn't I? So stupid..."

Red forces herself to be the calm one even though on the inside she felt like anything but. "Relax, Goldilocks." she soothes, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. "It wasn't your fault. Now, c'mon!" There wasn't time to waste talking. "We need to find them before more soldiers find us."

Rapunzel responds with a questioning look. "How are we going to find them?"

"I follow my nose. You follow me." she says simply. "Anyone who gets in the way—"

"We deal with." Rapunzel finishes knowingly.

Smilingly slightly, Red nods and holds out her hand. Her and Rapunzel fist bump before taking off down the corridor.

—

Of course finding Anna would not be so simple. She should have expected as much. When the smoke clears, Elsa sees their surroundings had changed. No longer in the dungeon, they were in what Elsa could only assume was the Queen's throne room.

At least it wasn't a torture chamber she'd brought them to.

But, then again, someone as powerful as the Evil Queen probably wouldn't require such a room to begin with; if she wanted to inflict pain, she could do it all on her own.

"I was beginning to wonder if the infamous Ice Queen would ever grace me with her presence."

Elsa turns her head finding the Evil Queen staring at her appraisingly, a deceitfully cordial smile on her lips. Elsa finds herself doing the same, taking in all that is the Evil Queen for the first time.

Aside from the fact that she was not nearly as old as Elsa had anticipated, Elsa couldn't help but notice that the Queen looked an awful lot like an older version of Snow White, save for the skin tone. To the point where they looked almost too similar to be considered just step-mother and step-daughter...

"Snow Queen, actually." Elsa corrects coolly. Not that it really mattered but if she had to pick a title for herself, _Snow_ was a little more gentile sounding than _Ice._

"I'd go with Ice Queen, dear." advises the Evil Queen, advancing toward her. "Sounds a little more intimidating."

Elsa holds her ground, as does Snow who's standing next to her, despite the momentarily flare up of unease.

"Not all of us require, or want, a name to instill fear." _I could do that just fine on my own, if I so chose._

Pushing that thought aside, Elsa raises her chin defiantly. "Where is she?"

"Excuse me?"

"Where is my sister?" she repeats in a clearer tone. When she receives no direct response, she attempts a different approach. "As Queen of Arendelle, I demand—"

"You are in no place to demand anything, dear." the Queen scoffs, rebuking her as if she were a child.

Before Elsa can come up with some kind of retort, she finds herself being circled.

"I must say, your highness, I'm surprised by you. To leave ones' kingdom, unprotected, and to come here without suitable backup? I knew you were young, dear, but I didn't think you were that...for lack of a better word...stupid."

Years of practice is the only reason Elsa's able to keep her face perfectly impassive.

"You must think that you're sparing your people by coming alone."

"I'm not alone." she finally speaks up, ignoring the lick of anger that arises.

"Of course." the Queen nods. "How could I forget that motley crew you brought with you?" She turns away with a chuckle before inquiring, "Where on earth did you find such a sad, pitiful bunch?"

Ignoring the jab, Elsa bites down on the inside of her cheek, trying to keep her expression neutral and not let the grimace she felt coming on peek through. _If she knew about the others...oh god, what if she had them in her captivity?_

"Enough of this." Snow cuts in definitively, just as several worse case scenario images flooded Elsa's mind. "I'm right here." she says to her step-mother. "You're getting what you want. I won't try to flee. Now return Elsa's sister to her."

"It's rude to interrupt a conversation." the Queen reprimands in an eerily calm way. Her gaze flickers back to Elsa. "You'll have to excuse her. My daughter sometimes forgets her manners when she's not the center of attention."

Beside her, Snow's gaze hardens. "Step-daughter." she tersely corrects.

"Come now Snow darling," the Queen sighs. It does not go unnoticed by Elsa how her eyes had flitted to the ceiling beforehand. "You know as well as I that isn't true."

"You are not my mother." Snow hisses. "I am too good a person to be spawned from such evil."

The Queen laughs darkly. "Evil isn't born, dear. It's _made_." Quirking her brow, she adds with unsettling mirth in her eyes, "You have to see the resemblance every time you look in the mirror. Surely you don't think that coincidental?"

"You are not my mother." Snow maintains, though her voice wavers slightly.

The Queen chuckles once more. It's a sound that would make anyone's skin crawl. "See what a stubborn daughter I have?" she says to Elsa. "Can't imagine where she gets it from."

"How can you possibly her step-mother _and_ her mother?" Elsa questions, in the back of her mind knowing that she should stall the woman for as long as possible. Being detained was a blessing in disguise almost - well not for her and Snow personally - but at least here they'll be able to keep the Queen occupied and hopefully give the others more time to find where Anna truly was.

If she was in the castle at all...

"Well technically I'm both." the Queen amends, making Elsa's eyes narrow in confusion. "I gave Snow up for adoption when she was just a babe. At the time I was just sixteen and unwed...in no way capable of caring for a child. Wanting to give my child the best chance in life, I anonymously gave her to the King and Queen who were having trouble conceiving one of their own."

Elsa tilts her head, eyes narrowed in confusion. "You were a peasant?"

The Queen noticeably stiffens at the term. "I was down on my luck." she corrects with a pointed stare. "But make no mistake I had all the qualities befitting of royalty. I knew I was destined for life more than what had been handed to me."

"Just stop." Snow says, frustrated, unwilling to hear her step...er, mother regale her life story. "Do what you want with me but let Elsa go already. She did nothing wrong."

"Nothing wrong?" the Queen repeats, her brow raised. "That's a lark. My slaughtered men would say otherwise. If they could."

"You took my sister." Elsa reminds as calmly as she can possible muster, her temper admittedly flaring up.

"And you didn't cooperate with my wishes." the Queen returns simply, again as if talking to a child. "And when you don't cooperate, there are consequences."

"Where. Is. Anna?" she grits out, taking a step closer to the woman. She ignores Snow's attempt to pull her back.

"She's alive, if that's what your wondering. But for how much longer remains up to you."

Elsa straightens her posture. "If you're trying to scare me it isn't working."

"Really now?" the Queen quirks a disbelieving brow. "Cause it seems to me," When she steps uncomfortably close into her personal space, it's all Elsa can do not to retreat backward. "That you're just full of fear." She nods to herself. "That's your true enemy you know. Fear. It can debilitate the best of us, which is such a shame. You have so much untapped potential." she murmurs, dragging a talon like nail underneath her chin. "I don't believe even you know how powerful you truly are."

Elsa jerks her head away. "Don't speak to me as if you know me, because you don't. Now what is it you want from me? My kingdom? My money? What will it take for you to give me Anna back?" she demands to know.

"Like I told you before I want an alliance."

Elsa narrows her eyes, sensing there was a stronger, underlying reason than that. "I would never ally myself with you."

"Your problem here is with me." Snow hastily reminds, seeing how fast her step-mother's smile had dropped. "And Anna is an innocent-"

"Actually," the Queen drawls. "My problem is with both of you. Considering you've not only trespassed on my property and depleted a significant amount of my forces."

_Something which never would have happened if you'd just left my sister alone_, Elsa thinks with irritation, nails digging hard into the palms of her hands.

"Release her." Elsa hears herself say, her patience nearing nonexistence. "Release her, _right now_—"

"Or you'll what?" the Queen laughs. "Take her? Sic that darling little pet of yours on me?"

Elsa feels her insides twist at the mention of Red. A first.

"Don't be foolish. Many have underestimated my power. You would be wise not to do the same. For your sake...and your loved ones."

"Do not threaten me." she warns, the dangerous tone that emerges making her voice unfamiliar to even her own ears.

Determined anger begins to well up inside of her, as the Queen's eyes glimmer with amusement, not affected by her hostility in the slightest.

Elsa could feel the temperature in the room drop lower. Her muscles twitch with her attempt to keep the ice from spreading out.

_Control, Elsa. Control._

_She can't see how much she's getting to you, she'll just..._

"You know you have to be careful around werewolves." the Queen says out of nowhere, slowly beginning to circle around her. "So violent. So unpredictable. Those you want to take care not to provoke."

Elsa's jaw clenches, her will to contain her powers admittedly slipping fast. "They're not the only ones."

"Elsa," Snow warns.

"Seems I ruffled your feathers." the Queen comments. "That was not my intention." Yet her smile says otherwise, Elsa can't help but notice. "I'll tell you what since you were kind enough to hand deliver daughter to me, I will propose a deal. I will return your sister to you for that lovely wolf of yours."

Elsa stares at the older woman incredulously for a moment, unsure if she heard right. First she wants Snow, now Red? "Excuse me?"

"Werewolves are rare find," the Queen shrugs. "And I do love the company of fellow monsters...or haven't you noticed?"

It's just as much a jab at herself as it is at Red but it's because of the latter that makes something inside her snap. Red was _not_ a monster.

Behind her, the glass window shatters completely.

The Queen peers over her shoulder at the damage. "Careful now." she warns, reverting her attention.

Elsa pushes Snow behind her instinctively, her body trembling, struggling with the building pressure inside her, her powers demanding to be released. Suddenly it felt as if she didn't act soon she might just internally combust. Fleetingly she wonders if this is even a fraction of what Red feels when she wants to wolf out.

Elsa's gaze flickers back to Snow briefly, silently urging her to make a run for it. She didn't know what was going to happen next, if anything, but if it did she'd rather Snow not be near her.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." the Queen drawls knowingly, catching the exchange. "There are half a dozen guards out there, waiting."

Her chin raised defiantly, Elsa lifts her hand and with a flick of her wrist, sends a gust of cold air that forces the double doors behind her to burst wide open.

Then, without looking back at the sight that was undoubtedly startled soldiers, Elsa throws the flat of her palm sideways.

The frosted blast that escapes her knocks them backward, the force of which renders all of them unconscious.

She exhales softly with the small release of energy. That felt too good. "Snow, go."

The short brunette shoots her an incredulous look. "Are you insane? No."

"Now is not the time to argue." she whispers back heatedly. "Just do as I say, please?"

"And what pray tell do you intend to do?" the Queen intervenes, amusement playing across her lips. "Fight me?" A dangerous chuckle escapes her as she walks right up to Elsa, leaving very little space between them.

"Let me remind you of something, dear." Her open palm erupts into flames, licking at the air right in front of Elsa's face. "Nothing destroys ice faster than _fire_."

—

Elsa.

Elsa.

Elsa.

That was all Red could think of as she and Rapunzel sprinted through the castle, following the blonde's scent. The soldiers they encountered on the way were quickly disposed of. Between her short temper and Rapunzel's frying pan they didn't stand a fighting chance.

"Do you think the others are alright?" Rapunzel asks.

Her mind elsewhere, Red slows her pace, then cautiously peers around the corner. "C'mon." she whispers. "We're close."

Not that she didn't care about the others, she did, she just couldn't dwell on that now. Her main concern right now was Elsa's well-being.

Red darts down the corridor, turning several ways here and there before they at last reach their destination. She knows it is because she could hear Elsa' heartbeat more clearly. Plus the Black Knights standing guard for no apparent reason were kind of a giveaway.

Without a second thought, Red pushes forward, with every intention of raising some hell and getting her girl— but something stops her at the last second, er, _someone_.

Rapunzel pulls her back into the shadows.

Red whips around, instantly shrugging out of the girl's grasp. Her eyes flash. "The fuck, Rapunzel?" she growls lowly. She might not be able to turn like she wanted to but the wolf still lingered close to the surface. Maybe too close.

"Calm down, Red." Rapunzel says with surprising sternness. "You're injured and we need a plan. You can't just—"

Red feels her nostrils flare at that remark, offended. So what if she's injured? She could be down a limb and bleeding out like nobody's business and she'd still come out victorious against those idjits. She tells Rapunzel as much, but the blonde just rolls her eyes.

"Can you at least sense if Anna is in there with them?"

Red grits her teeth struggling for patience. The wolf was uninterested in questions. It needed to act. To kill. _Now_.

With a shake of her head, Red pushes down that thought. No matter how much the wolf hungered for it, she already had enough blood on her hands for her tastes.

"Red," Rapunzel prompts.

She shakes her head in response to the blonde's question. "No, she's not." She could pick up Elsa's scent. And Snow's. And some horrible stink she could only assume was the Queen. But no Anna.

"Then we need to find her. While they're keeping the Evil Queen busy, we can—"

Her eyes widen in disbelief. "You wanna leave them alone with her, _are you nuts?_" she hisses, appalled. For once her and her wolf were in agreement. No way were they leaving Elsa, or Snow, in the company of that witch for any longer than they've already tolerated.

"We came here for Anna." Rapunzel reminds, firmly grasping her arm when she tries to push past her. "We've only got one shot at this, Red. Elsa's counting on us."

"So we grab Elsa and throw a little of this," Red breaks the string on the pouch of fairy dust hanging around Rapunzel's neck and holds it up. "On that batshit crazy wench. That'll take care of her which will leave us free to find Anna _together_. Bing. Bang. Boom. Now let's go."

Red huffs out in frustration when Rapunzel stops her second attempt at leaving. "Rapunzel," she warns.

"The Queen will hear the commotion if we go after her soldiers. If we're gonna do this, we have to at least catch her off-guard. She might try to hurt Elsa and Snow otherwise."

The very idea has anxiety twisting in her stomach like a sharp knife. "So what do you have in mind then, smarty pants?"

Rapunzel just smiles knowingly and latches onto her wrist. "Follow me."

With no choice in the matter, Red does just that and allows Rapunzel to tug her along in the opposite direction.

A short while later they're outside on the castle parapet, a level above where Red wanted to be. Peering over the edge of the wall, she questions, "You sure about this, Goldilocks?"

Red looks back at the blonde and her ever-growing hair. Now that they were up here she had a better sense of what was Rapunzel's plan.

"Don't tell me the Big Bad Wolf's gone chicken." Rapunzel teases.

"Of course not." she scowls. "I just wanna make sure your hair..."

Rapunzel quirks her brow as she heaves said locks over the side. "You underestimating the strength of my hair?"

"Now there's a sentence that only sounds normal coming from you."

"Red," Rapunzel sighs, smiling not unkindly. "It's not like you've never done this before."

True but it would be a first dropping in - er, _swinging_ in - on the Evil Queen.

"You'll be just like swashbuckler Flynn Rider swooping in to rescue his lady love." Rapunzel chuckles.

Below them what sounds like a window shatters, startling them both.

The both of them lunge over the side to see for themselves and sure enough there was frosted shards of glass on the floor.

Elsa.

"Well so much for you breaking through the window." Rapunzel comments, meanwhile Red's a second away from jumping over the wall, heart surging with panic, to come to her girl's aide, plan be damned.

"Red!" Quickly, Rapunzel latches onto the back of her shirt and pulls her away.

"Blondie, we need to act now!"

"Then you'll want this." she rolls her eyes, shoving the pouch of fairy dust into Red's hand. "It might prove helpful."

Red pockets the pouch without a second thought, then hoists herself up onto the stone wall. She ignores the throbbing pain in her shoulder.

"Careful, Red." Rapunzel urges, as she reaches out and grabs a hold of her hair, then proceeds to slide down it a little.

As Rapunzel lowers her down like rope, Red pushes against the stone wall for momentum. So that when she finally reaches the broken window, she's able to swing right in.

She always did like to make an entrance.

—

The fire that dances across her vision heats her up in more ways than one. There was the obvious physical heating of her face, uncomfortable but tolerable, then there was the flare up of her temper, provoked by the blatant intimidation tactic. Her gaze lifts beyond the flames and sure enough she's met with a devilishly smug smile.

In the back of her mind Elsa thinks of Anna and what she would do were she in her position. She'd probably do something un-princess-like. She'd scoff or raise her chin and say some smart remark, maybe even land a punch...

Elsa's fists clench at her sides, ice devouring the insides of her palms at the reminder of Anna. Her baby sister, the captive, the hostage.

Her jaw grows taut as she feels that all too familiar whirlwind of energy - of ice and snow - build within her. _Conceal. Don't feel. Control it_, her mind advises.

Elsa's inclined to do just that when she stops, another part of her questioning.

Why?

Why should she?

Elsa stares hard at the Queen whose mouth was working but whose voice she couldn't hear. Her mind was working too loud for her to focus on the sound. Not that it mattered. Her words were probably just made up of more taunting and thinly veiled threats.

If anyone should feel the wrath of her powers it's _her_.

A sentiment she wholeheartedly agrees with but deep down knows she shouldn't.

Just...

Let it go.

Remember that? Remember how good it felt? To not hold back? Elsa thinks back to her ice castle. Then to all the instances since then where she's allowed her powers to breathe.

Reel it in now and I'll only be going backward, Elsa reasons. To make progress you have to keep moving forward. And I've been doing so good lately...I'm stronger than I think. Isn't that what people are constantly telling me?

_This is what the Queen wants_, the wary voice reminds. _She wants a reason to hurt you. You hurt her and she'll hurt you right back. Or take it out on someone you love. Anna. Or Red..._

She can't hurt me if she's dead, Elsa thinks quietly. She couldn't hurt anyone. Snow could have her home back...people could stop living in fear...

_You're not a killer!_

That woman has no intention of giving Anna back. All she cares about is getting what she wants. She's not about being fair. Or true or honest. She's a villain. Who's caused more pain and destruction than anyone in recent memory. And she's not going to stop.

_Don't be the monster they fear you are._

Those words..._his_ words...since used as a way to reiterate the importance of self-control, now only fanned the flames of her volatile state. The subject of Hans always made her sick but right now it just made her blood burn with ice.

She could still hear his voice clear as day: _Your sister is dead because of you_.

Then, unwittingly, her mind flashes to the vision of Anna out on the fijord.

That all too painful memory triggers something much stronger than her fear ever could. She swore she'd never allow herself to be in that kind of situation again.

Her magic strikes before she can think to withhold it. (Not that she could, she later thinks).

Ice bursts forth from her palms and fingertips, concentrated in a steady beam, _and god, it feels so good_—

The ice hits its' target. A perfect bullseye. Robin Hood would be proud.

"Elsa!" comes Snow's distant cry of surprise.

The Queen's lips curve in a smirk as she straightens herself up, the force of her attack having made her stumble back a peg. "Trying to freeze my heart." she comments, brushing herself off, unfazed. "There's more darkness in you than I thought." She nods, almost sounding impressed.

"Unfortunately for you, dear, I have no heart for you to freeze."

Despite the revelation, Elsa keeps her hand poised in front of her. "All I want is my sister and I'm not leaving here without her. I don't care what I have to do to you to see it through."

Within an instant, the Queen disappears in a cloud of purple smoke, only to reappear right in front of her.

Next thing Elsa knows the Queen is grabbing a hold of her hands in a vice-like grip, fire consuming her hands. It all happens so fast, yet so slow at the same time. The flames eat at her skin, devouring the ice, melting it. And Elsa can only watch it happen, feel it happen. The fire burns through the ice in her veins like a lit fuse. It travels up her arms before spreading across her back and down her spine. It's a sensation that should have her screaming in agony but the shock of it all must have shut down that part of her brain because she can't even—

The Queen is suddenly in her ear, whispering. "Here's a fun fact: sometimes even the not-so wicked witches melt."

Vaguely, Elsa feels her hands being released. Her skin hisses with steam as the rest of her body drops like dead weight. Her kneecaps slam into the ground unforgivingly.

With a sort of disbelieving awe, Elsa stares down at the raw, seared flesh that used to resemble her hands.

Faintly, ever so faintly, she hears Snow cry. "Elsa, Elsa! No, get away from her—"

It takes some effort to lift her head which suddenly felt like it was weighed down with lead. Her consciousness is slipping fast...

That's when she sees it.

A blurred figure in red hurtling through the shattered window behind the Queen.

_Just like Flynn Rider_, she thinks distantly before all goes dark.

* * *

**AN: Oh, the repercussions to come! Ha. Needless to say this story is just barely getting started. So hopefully you'll stick with me and hang around to see all the craziness unfold - in both worlds!**

**Let's go over who's who just to be clear: Elsa/Quinn, Red/ Santana, Rapunzel/Brittany, Snow/Rachel, Robin/Puck, John/Finn, Jack/Sam, Bellamy/Kurt, Tiana/Mercedes, Arthur/Artie, Mulan/Tina, Shang/Mike, Merlin/Holly Holliday, James/Jesse St. James, Evil Queen/Shelby. That's everyone, right?**

**Next chapter will have definitely have Quinn pov incorporated, so we'll get inside her head and more drama, more sweet Quinntana-ness, more everything to come!**

**And big thanks to all of you, your kind words and encouragement are the best!**


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Back again! We're back Storybrooke for this chapter, to the dismay of those who wanted a straight continuation from where we left off with the last chapter. We'll get back to all that chaos soon - promise - but for now you're stuck with a chapter of Quinntana. As promised I incorporated Quinn's POV, so it's relatively split even between her and Santana's. There's even a little Brittany section at the end to give you an idea of what will be going down in the next chapter. **

**Er, next, _next_ chapter.**

**As always, you guys are too good to me with your reviews. Thank you for the kind words and encouragement!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Psst!"

Quinn, trying to sleep, ignores the whispered sound. Knowing Santana she probably just wanted her to make waffles again.

"—sa!"

Only catching the last syllable of whatever Santana was trying to say, Quinn feels her brow scrunch up in confusion.

"—sa!"

Groaning, she keeps her eyes clenched shut and buries her face deeper into her pillow. To her tired mind it barely registers that the voice in question did not belong to Santana.

"—na, go back to sleep." she mumbles sleepily, for some reason the first part of Santana's name suspiciously muted to her ears.

That's when she feels it. The weight on top of her.

"_But I just can't_." the high pitched, childlike voice insists. "The sky's awake, so I'm awake, so we have to play."

Quinn's eyes flash open. She turns over quickly, realizing with a start that _was_ the voice of a child.

"Oof!"

Sitting upright, Quinn sees that her sudden movement had accidentally forced the young girl off the bed and onto the floor.

For a split second she panics, fearing injury, and peers over the side of the bed. The small strawberry blonde pops up instantly, giggling in delight, more amused than anything.

Everything about the girl - the freckles, the hair, the eyes - Quinn notices, is strangely familiar. But she can't for the life of her place her face.

Maybe she's seen her around town before?

That had to be it. How else would she have recognized her?

Before Quinn can inquire as to who she is, and why she's in her bedroom, the little girl cocks her head to the side. Then asks in this mischievous way, as if it were a guilty pleasure of theirs, "Do you want to build a snowman?"

For some unknown reason that simple question hits her like a ton of bricks and the next thing Quinn knows, her eyes are flashing open for a second time.

Sitting straight up in bed, she wildly looks around. Suddenly there was no child to be found. Unless you counted the overgrown one sleeping soundly beside her.

Exhaling deeply, she turns her head and stares out her window. Outside, the light of dawn was barely visible.

_It was just a dream_, she thinks to herself, eyes flickering back to Santana.

Her body relaxes.

Just a dream.

Quinn gives herself a moment to calm down before pushing back the covers. She'd only just gone to bed a little while ago, but she gets out of bed anyways and stretches, knowing once she was awake there was no returning to it. For some reason she always woke with the sun, regardless of how little sleep she got.

It was strange but, to her, normal. Just like everything else in her life.

Quinn pads into kitchen to make herself a pot of tea as she does every morning. Marshmallow, with his sensitive ears, picks up on this almost immediately and rises from his little bed.

The sound of his feet against the hardwood floor alerts her to his presence. Turning her head, Quinn looks down and sighs.

"Go back to bed, Marshmallow." she gently implores, watching him release a large yawn. She knows he was still sleepy. "Lie down with Santana."

Her side of the bed would still be warm; he'd like it.

Though Santana probably wouldn't.

But then again, if last night was any indication (she'd been oddly uninsulting toward him) maybe Santana was finally warming up to him.

Quinn smiles at the thought. "Come on." she whispers. She walks out of the kitchen, prompting Marshmallow to follow her.

Santana has since moved since Quinn woke up. She was now sleeping on her stomach with her head buried under the pillows, like an ostrich with its head in the ground.

Marshmallow needs no encouragement from Quinn to get up on the bed. As soon as his eyes land on the inviting open space next to Santana, he scampers forward to make himself comfortable.

Quinn shakes her head at the sight and pushes away from the wall, her whistling tea kettle beckoning her back to the kitchen.

Mornings around the apartment were always quiet and this one was no different. It would be hours until Santana finally woke up so she had all that time to herself. Not that Quinn minded. She was no stranger to being alone.

Sure she'd gotten accustomed to Santana and Brittany's constant presence for a while there, but after her falling out with Santana, she'd readjusted to her solitary lifestyle fairly easy. Probably because a part of her had always known it couldn't have lasted. Maybe it was self-sabotage that caused her to screw things up and make the wrong choices the way she did.

Maybe she did it all on purpose because deep down she knew she was meant to be alone.

To be honest she's not sure why she feels that way about herself. Just that she always has. For as long as she could remember, she's felt the need to keep to herself.

To isolate herself.

She really wished she knew the reason behind it. That way she could better understand it and get past it. The last thing she wanted was this irrational subconscious feeling to make her push the people she cared about away...again. Especially now that her and Santana were on the mend and _possibly_ on their way to something more.

In spite of everything that had happened last night, Quinn was still swimming in a pool of uncertainty.

Were her and Santana together now? Were they dating? Girlfriends? Was there a difference?

Did Santana even want any of that? Quinn knows Santana's never been in a real relationship with a girl before...maybe Santana wanted something casual instead.

Like, 'friends with benefits' casual.

Her stomach churns uneasily at the idea. One thing was for certain: she was not ready for benefits. _Of any kind_.

(As she'd just found out last night, she could barely handle kissing by itself without feeling like she might pass out).

After breakfast, Quinn starts tidying up. There wasn't much to clean but she needed the distraction. If she stayed in her head too long worrying she'd only drive herself crazy.

And god knows how neurotic she already was.

As the morning fades into afternoon, Quinn finds herself getting antsy while waiting on Santana to wake up. She steals a glance at the clock and sighs.

She really wanted to see Santana before she had to leave for the animal shelter. (Since Brittany was out sick she'd offered her services to keep them from being shorthanded). Though if she had known she'd have Santana sleeping over she never would have signed up for it. The last thing she wanted was Santana to wake up and find her gone and leave her to assume she was back to avoiding her.

Thankfully Quinn doesn't have to worry about explaining her absence. In the middle of her making herself lunch, Santana finally emerges from hibernation. The endearing sight the brunette presents is one that automatically brings a smile to her face. Santana never failed to be adorable right after waking up, with her matted sleep hair and pouty expression signifying her need for nourishment.

Lucky for her Quinn had already brewed a pot of coffee and was able to set down a steaming mug before Santana plopped herself down at the kitchen counter. "Morning." she greets, before correcting, "I mean, _afternoon_."

She doesn't take it personally when Santana doesn't acknowledge her presence - unless you count that grunt as an acknowledgment - choosing instead to reach across the counter and steal the sandwich right off her plate. Quinn's had enough sleepovers with her to know she doesn't return to her normal human being status until after her stomach was full.

With that in mind Quinn turns around and opens the refrigerator to make herself a new sandwich, and _another_ one for Santana (god knows one sandwich wouldn't be enough). Once she has them made, her and Santana eat together in relative silence.

It isn't until she sees that Santana's finished her second sandwich that she tries for conversation. "So...how did you sleep?" she asks, trying not to look too amused by how significantly more awake Santana seemed.

Santana hated excessive smiling first thing in the morning. Well, excessive smiling in general.

"Good." Santana nods, wiping her hands together before standing up. "Be right back."

Quinn frowns questioningly as she watches Santana disappear into the hallway.

She's probably just going to the bathroom, her mind reasons. She did drink a lot of coffee.

Or she's attempting to sneak out via her fire escape.

It's not like it'd be the first time she's done that.

Quinn worries her bottom lip in thought, her insecurities starting to eat at her insides again. _She totally regrets last night. She doesn't want this...she doesn't want you._

After about a minute Quinn hears Santana's returning footsteps. Any normal person would take that as a good sign and relax, but not her. No, instead Quinn is fully prepared for a fully dressed Santana to walk out ready to bolt.

_"Oh, sorry Quinn about last night...I thought it over and I'd rather just be friends. Later!"_

Needless to say, when Santana comes back dressed in the same t-shirt and cotton shorts she was wearing when she woke up, Quinn's kind of at a loss. A feeling which only intensifies when Santana makes her way around the counter purposefully and stops right in front of her.

Before she can even think to feel relief that Santana wasn't leaving or mentally kick herself for getting so embarrassingly worked up over nothing, lips are being pressed against hers and suddenly there's _kissing_ going on.

Quinn tenses for the first few seconds, caught off-guard. She barely gets the chance to kiss back before she feels Santana pulling away.

"Sorry."

Quinn opens her eyes to find chocolate brown eyes staring at her in concern. She must have noticed her initial lack of response.

"I just wanted to brush my teeth." Santana explains. "Didn't want to greet you with turkey breath you know."

Now that she mentioned it she could taste Santana's favorite cinnamon toothpaste (the red kind, of course - and yeah, she kept her own toothpaste here) on her tongue.

"Am I not, I mean, do you not want me to do that?"

Realizing that Santana was honestly unsure if she'd overstepped her boundaries, Quinn quickly assures, "No!" Wait. "I mean yes, I mean you can if you want. I don't mind. You just took me by surprise is all." she fumbles nervously, her brain a little jumbled from that kiss. "I just wasn't sure that you felt the same after last night..."

Santana's frown deepens. "What makes you think I wouldn't?"

"I dunno." she shrugs, her gaze flitting to the floor. "You could have slept on it and had some kind of epiphany and realized you don't really like me as much as you thought."

Santana blows out a breath. "I more than like you snowflake," she says sincerely, dipped her head so that she caught her gaze. "I _want_ you. I want us to be more than friends."

In spite of everything Quinn still had a hard time wrapping her head around that fact, but okay. "Thanks."

"Wait, what?"

"Huh?"

Then, Quinn realizes.

Did she just say _thanks?_

Santana shakes her head at her, scoffing her amusement. "God, we're embarrassing." She takes a small step forward, declaring, "We're dating now. _Comprende?_"

Quinn's pretty sure her cheeks are pink as she nods. "Yeah."

Santana's smile broadens. Quinn's never felt a stronger urge to kiss those adorable dimpled cheeks.

"Good. Now can we gets our mack on?" Santana raises her brow expectantly. "Cause I've done all that I could to not pounce on you since I woke up and I feel like I deserve some kind of reward for that."

Grinning, Quinn grabs a hold of the back of her neck and draws her forward, eagerly reuniting their lips. Smiling against her, Santana meets her enthusiasm in kind. And then some.

Needless to say things get very passionate, very fast, and it isn't long before Quinn's head is swimming from the intensity of it all.

Santana really doesn't help things when she grabs the backs of her thighs and lifts Quinn up effortlessly, leaving her legs to automatically wrap around her slight waist.

"Hey, you're strong." she comments, whispering against her lips, impressed.

Santana quirks her brow up at her. "You sound surprised." she says in between kisses.

"Well for someone so small—"

"Small?" Santana scoffs, clearly offended. She pulls back, taking her lips with her. "Who you calling _small?_"

Quinn opens her eyes and frowns slightly, a little disgruntled the brunette's lips were suddenly out of reach. "Svelte." she corrects. "I meant svelte."

"What the fuck is svelte?"

"Slender. Elegant. Lean." Quinn mutters, leaning forward, trying to get Santana to resume her earlier actions. "You're small but mighty...you know, like Mighty Mouse."

As soon as the words leave her mouth, Santana's own mouth parts in shock. Meanwhile Quinn silently groans in embarrassment.

Mighty Mouse? Really, Quinn? Really?

Though now that she mentioned it Santana did kind of have mouse cheeks...

"_Excuse me?_"

Crap. Did she say that aloud?

"Chipmunk would be more accurate, actually." she blurts unthinkingly.

And shut up, Quinn!

"Chipmunks put nuts in their mouth, Quinn." Santana scowls. "I am _not_ a chipmunk."

Quinn smiles sheepishly. "Of course not." she humors, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, trying to get back in her good graces. "You're a wolf."

"Fuck yeah I am." Santana grumbles, keeping her arms crossed but accepting her kiss nonetheless.

"A _little _wolf though." she teases, unable to help herself. Santana was just too cute when she was all indignant and pouty.

Eyes narrowed, Santana purposefully bites her bottom lip.

"Ow!"

Quinn pushes out of Santana's arms and unwraps her legs from her waist, eyes narrowed. "Jerk."

"You're the one who started it." Santana shrugs unapologetically. "Insulting my size and whatnot. I'm taller than you, you know."

With a snort, Quinn turns on her heel and walks away, her bottom lip now painfully swollen.

Darn Santana and her freakishly sharp teeth.

"And where do you think you're going? I'm not done macking."

"I have to be at the animal shelter soon." she explains, slipping into her bedroom with Santana on her heels. "Since Brittany's out sick they're a little short on help and since this is the last business day before the holidays..."

Her words trail off as she looks around for her shoes.

Marshmallow was becoming more and more mischievous as of late and she kept having to hide her shoes from him, or risk them becoming his new chew toys.

"Which reminds me," Santana reaches up and plucks her shoes off the top shelf of her closet before handing them back to her. Quinn smiles gratefully. "I gotta help my grams finish making the rest of the tamales for that stupid Christmas dinner."

Quinn sits on the edge of her bed, pulling on her shoes one foot at a time while Santana rummages through her dresser. Even though she hasn't been over in a while Quinn made sure to leave her designated drawer of clothes untouched.

"Sounds like fun."

Santana shoots her a look over her shoulder. "The woman's a slave driver. I'm gonna reek of pork and masa for weeks."

"Well, you know me, I love pork. I won't mind." she chuckles.

Lifting her head, her smile falters when she's met with the sight of Santana pushing down her sleep shorts.

Quinn quickly averts her gaze. She's never been in the same room as Santana when she's changing and well, she can only handle so many new Santana experiences in one twenty-four hour period. Making out was one thing...watching her undress was a whole other...and that was asking a little too much of her.

Quinn stands up only when she's sure Santana has pants on. "I'll be done at the shelter in a few hours." she brings up in what she hopes is a steady tone. "Do you maybe want to come back here for dinner? We could pop in a movie."

"Dinner and a movie?" Santana lifts her head and quirks a brow at her. A teasing smirk plays across her lips. "This your subtle way of asking me for a date, Fabray?"

Her face colors. It hadn't been her intention but thinking about it now, she couldn't very well date Santana without the 'having dates' part, now could she?

"I'll take that blush as a 'yes'." Santana chuckles.

Quinn releases the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and nods.

"Cool." Santana grins. "My abuela's probably gonna send me back with tamales for you anyways so you wanna make a meal out of those or do you want me to pick up something else?"

Quinn follows her out of her bedroom, shaking her head. "Tamales are fine." she assures.

Right now she's grateful she's behind Santana because then she can't see what she feels is a ridiculously stupid smile plastered across her face.

_She had a date with Santana!_

"I'll see if I can get the old broad to make us some rice and beans too." Santana was saying over her shoulder. "That way we don't have to cook at all."

"Santana we're perfectly capable of making our own food. Don't make your abuela cook more than she already is."

Quinn could practically hear the eye roll. "Fine. But if she insists like hell, I'm not gonna deny her."

With a shake of her head, Quinn picks up Marshmallow's leash as Santana grabs her jacket off the coat rack by the door. She doesn't need to whistle for him as he's already dancing around at her feet, eager as can be to be taken out again. He liked going down to the shelter with her and playing with the other dogs.

"I'm thinking of stopping by Brittany's afterward to check up on her and bring her some soup." Quinn informs, rising up once Marshmallow was securely leashed.

"You better wear a hazmat suit." Santana warns, flipping her hair out from under her jacket collar.

"Santana its just a cold." she chuckles. "It's not like she has polio."

Santana shrugs dismissively. "If you get sick, then _I'll_ get sick." she explains, looking back at her. "And I'm just letting you know now I'm the worst patient ever."

"I wouldn't mind taking care of you." she says softly, meeting her gaze.

It's the truth but Quinn feels a bit embarrassed admitting it quite so candidly, especially with the way Santana was looking at her, all cheeky and smug, and really Quinn has to watch what she says or risk inflating that girl's already larger than life ego.

"You say that now, snowflake." Santana grins. "You say that now."

—

With Marshmallow leading the way, Quinn walks up the steps to the front porch of the Pierce home.

She's got chicken noodle soup in hand and paw prints on her jeans - not that the latter concerned her, but she would definitely be needing a shower first thing when she got home. (She'd never hear the end of it from Santana if she caught a whiff of her reeking of dog.)

Quinn rings the doorbell.

During her brief moment of waiting, she silently hopes that her stopping by would be alright and that Brittany wasn't resting or anything. She really should have called ahead to make sure. Making a surprise visit had seemed like a good idea _at the time_—

She snaps out of her daze when the door clicks open and reveals Brittany. Aside from the red nose and sweatpants you wouldn't even know she had a cold, she looked so...not sick. Needless to say Brittany was one of those people who looked good on any occasion.

"Hey, Quinn!" Brittany greets happily, pleasantly surprised. "What are you doing here?" Her gaze suddenly drops as she notices Marshmallow at her feet. "Hey there Marshmallow fluff!"

Quinn waits until she's straightened up from properly greeting him to hand over the plastic bag in her grasp. "I, uh, brought you some soup."

"Sweet, thanks! Santana too chicken to come by too?" Brittany guesses with a laugh.

"She wanted me to first make sure the parasites haven't turned you into a zombie yet." Quinn confirms with a nod, barely suppressing a smile while she recited the brunette's exact words. "And if they had to proceed with caution and, if possible, raid your closet while I'm here."

Brittany raises her brow. "And you came to confront a potential zombie nest without so much as a shotgun? Tsk, Tsk, Quinnie." she chides. "You would not survive a day in a zombie apocalypse."

"Hey, don't underestimate the dog." she says, nodding toward Marshmallow. "He's more than meets the eye. Adorable fluffball on the outside but vicious zombie killer on the inside. He's my secret weapon."

Brittany rolls her eyes and the two of them share a laugh. "Sure, sure." she humors, before stepping aside and encouraging her to come inside. "Come on in. I promise I won't eat your brain."

Quinn follows Marshmallow inside, still smiling, "Santana will appreciate that, thanks."

"Speaking of..." Brittany sidles up beside her and takes her free hand, all but tugging her into the living room. "How'd it go last night with you two?"

Brittany sets down her soup on the coffee table before plopping herself down on the sofa and crossing her legs eagerly. "Spill the beans."

Even though she hadn't prepared to 'spill the bean' as it were, Quinn sits down on the other side of the sofa. She just about unhooks Marshmallow from his leash when she stops and looks around. "Wait, where's Lord Tubbington?"

After all, cats and dogs did not mix.

"Upstairs reading my diary, probably." Brittany waves dismissively. "Back to your birthday." she prompts, not falling for the distraction. "How was it?"

"Good." she nods. Then, amends a little more bashfully, "Great, actually."

"Gee, not all at once, Quinn." jokes Brittany. "My head is spinning from all the information."

Quinn shakes her head. "Well, we um..." her words trail off as she tries to figure out how exactly to begin.

"If you tell me you two have still not talked things out, I'm entitled to throw that scalding soup on you." Brittany warns with a pointed finger.

"No, we talked." she assures. Then ducks her head, her gaze finding her hands and admitting with some shyness, "We're kind of...yeah, we're dating."

The words felt so strange on her tongue, but in a good way.

When Quinn looks up, Brittany's staring at her with wide, disbelieving eyes. This causes her to swallow hard, slightly unsettled.

"You lying to me?"

Quinn just blinks. "What?"

Brittany stares at her unamused. "If Santana put you up to this so I'd get off your guys' backs..."

"What?" Quinn shakes her head quickly. "No, Brittany we're really together. Well as together as you can be after one day. Less than a day actually. It hasn't been a full twenty-four hours..." she drifts off, more or less rambling at that point.

Brittany, at the same time, bowls her over in a hug, nearly knocking her backward.

Quinn, surprised to say the least, isn't given a chance to return the gesture; Brittany pulls away so fast.

"Thank god." The taller blonde sits back and heaves a sigh of relief. "I would've been so pissed if my suffering had all been for nothing."

Quinn frowns, not comprehending. "Huh?"

"Come on, Quinn." Brittany dips her head and shoots her a raised brow look. "Do you really think I'd go outside and play in the snow without a jacket? I mean I know I'm blonde but I'm not _that_ dumb."

Admittedly it takes a few seconds to understand what Brittany was implying. "So you're saying you got sick on purpose?"

"Precisely." Brittany turns and plucks a tissue out of the Kleenex box on the coffee table. "It was the only way I could get you two buttheads in a room. And even if you had canceled our dinner plans, I know Santana well enough to know she wouldn't for a second have left you alone on your birthday. So you could say I took one for the team." she says, raising her shoulders briefly.

Quinn stays quiet for a moment. "So you're...okay with it?" she has to clarify. "Us? Me and Santana?"

Ever since she found out Santana and Brittany used to hook up, she worried there had been more to what Santana had told her. More feelings involved.

And the idea that maybe those feelings might be lingering ones made her slightly ill.

"Why wouldn't I?" Brittany frowns. "Didn't I just say I got myself sick _on purpose_ so you two would finally get your crap together?"

Quinn forces a smile when Brittany leans forward and playfully nudges her arm. "I know, I just, you and her used to...you have history..."

Realizing what she was getting at, Brittany scoots closer to her. A soft sigh escapes her. "Quinn." she starts seriously. "I love Santana, you know that. But in a best friend way. Yes we may have fooled around a couple of times way back when but that didn't mean anything. I don't feel for her like that. I want you two together. You'd think I'd go through all this trouble if I didn't?"

Quinn shakes her head, feeling embarrassed. And slightly guilty. "I didn't mean to imply—"

"I know." Brittany nods, thus saving herself from a fumbling explanation.

Relaxing a bit, her gaze flickers across the room. "Where are your parents?"

"They're out doing some last minute shopping." Brittany rolls her eyes, nodding, "Crazy, I know, but what can you do."

"So you're all alone?" Quinn frowns. She didn't like the idea of Brittany sitting home with no one to take care of her. "Me and Santana were planning on hanging out but...do you want us to come over here and keep you company?"

"Quinn," Brittany shakes her head with a slight laugh. "I'm fine. I can manage a few hours on my own, contrary to popular belief."

"But—"

"Don't feel obligated to include me in your plans, Quinn." Brittany says. "Especially when you and Santana already have something planned. I say this as a future reference."

Though she nods in understanding, she feels the need to explain, "I just don't ever want you to feel left out. Or feel like I'm monopolizing Santana's time and keeping her from hanging out with you. The last thing I want is for things to get weird or uncomfortable."

"Q," Brittany smiles gently and squeezes her arm. "You worry too much. Don't."

"I have my night all planned out." she assures. "I'm gonna devour this soup here and watch Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer on tv. Then for dessert I'm gonna secretly binge on the black and white cookies my mom thinks she's been so cleverly hiding. But," Brittany stands up and clips Marshmallow back onto his leash for her. "In order for that to happen," She beckons Quinn to get up as well. "You need to leave. So c'mon. Yeah, I'm kicking you out."

"But are you sure you don't—"

"Nope. Now go on." Brittany shoos, ushering her toward the door. "Go enjoy your Quinntana time."

Quinn looks back over her shoulder quizzically. "Quinntana?"

"Your couple name. Like Brangelina." Brittany clarifies. "Now be sure to remind Santana about you guys coming here to open presents on Christmas morning, otherwise she'll sleep through to noon."

Quinn chuckles halfway out the door. "Will do."

—

Santana walks around the apartment, so not pacing, with a twinge of impatience. Or maybe it was hunger. Either way Quinn was still showering (when she'd arrived Blondie had reeked of unbearable dog stank - _no me gusta_) and she was well on her way to dying of starvation if snowflake didn't hurry it on up. Sure the guacamole dip the blonde had made was good but it was not nearly enough to sate her appetite. It was literally taking her every once of self control not to dig into the freshly made tamales she'd brought over.

A new pang of hunger hitting her in that pitiful kind of way, Santana meanders over to the Christmas tree, in sore need of a distraction. It was a fairly small tree with a modest number of presents underneath. Peering down, she takes a look at the names. There was some for Brittany, Mr. and Mrs. Pierce, Marshmallow, her Abuela...

Santana raises her brow, then smiles, touched that Quinn had thought to get her grandma something too.

There was also a present for herself, which also came as a surprise, considering for a while there they'd stopped talking and being _well,_ friends. But there it was, perfectly wrapped in red with a little tag reading _To: Santana, From: Quinn_ in that elegant handwriting that never failed to warm her stomach.

Her gaze lingering on the gift, an idea comes to her. Smirking to herself, Santana casually glances over her shoulder, then sits herself down Indian style on the floor.

To inspect the presents.

For, you know, safety reasons.

Santana lifts her present and gives it an experimental shake. Definitely not clothes, she deduces.

Turning to Marshmallow who was sniffing around the tree next to her, she implores, "C'mon, perro." She all but pushes the present under his puppy nose to get him to sniff it out. "What'd she get me?"

When Marshmallow starts to paw at the wrapping paper, she promptly lifts it out of reach before he can damage it. "Hey man, watch it."

But then again...

"Okay, tear it, but just a little." she concedes, lowering her arms. "That way I can sneak a peek and still blame you."

"Santana?"

She jumps a little, startled. Then quickly shoves her present back under the tree.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Admiring the tree." she says innocently, rising to her feet. "And its contents. Casually. What are _you_ doing?"

Santana narrows her eyes at the freshly showered blonde staring at her in kind.

"Watching you trying to get a peek at your Christmas presents." Quinn responds, lightly shaking her head at her.

Meanwhile she hones in on the one vital piece of information.

_Presents._

As in, plural.

Hell. Fucking. Yeah.

"Honestly Santana," Quinn sighs. "You're worse than a little kid."

"Am not." she denies petulantly. She follows Quinn into the kitchen, Marshmallow on her heels. While Quinn walks behind the counter, Santana slips onto one of the stools across from her.

"But while we're on the subject, what did you get me?"

She steals another chip out of the bowl and scoops up another slab of guacamole.

She'd never say it aloud but Quinn made some bombtastic guacamole. Better than her grams even.

"You'll find out in two days." Quinn chuckles, turning around after retrieving two plates from the cabinet.

Santana shoots her a look. "Does it look like I can wait that long?"

"Fine." Quinn relents with a sigh. "If you must know I had Rachel record a cd of all your favorite songs as sung by her."

Santana's expression drops. "Don't even joke about things like that." she scowls, thoroughly unamused. "That's fucking mean."

"No what would be mean is slipping headphones on you while you sleep and having you listen to it until you were subliminally brainwashed into loving Rachel's voice." Quinn smiles cheekily.

"No, that would be evil." Santana corrects with a slight smirk, weirdly impressed by her snowflake's more devious side. "Remind me to never piss you off." she chuckles, but while seriously making a mental note of it.

She's no fool.

Quinn uncovers the plastic containers containing their side dishes. "I take it you got your abuela to make the rice and beans after all."

Santana shrugs. "She insisted." At the blonde's disbelieving brow raise, she scoffs, "Hey, I made the tamales."

"You helped assemble." Quinn corrects with a little grin.

Santana rolls her eyes. "Same difference." Pushing herself out of her chair, she comes around the counter to join Quinn on the other side. "Here, I'll do this."

Quinn stops making up their plates and frowns as Santana proceeds to shoo her out of the away. "Don't trust me with your food?" she chuckles.

"Nope." Santana takes over adding rice and beans to their plates, doubling her own portions. "Knowing you, you might try and slip in something healthy like kale."

Quinn laughs at the way her face scrunches up in disgust. "It wouldn't kill you to eat something green now and again."

"We're eating _guacamole_ aren't we?" she says, gesturing to the bowl in front of her.

Quinn just shakes her head. She gives up trying to help Santana when she playfully swats her hands away.

While removing the tamales from their corn husks, Santana half watches as Quinn moves around the apartment. She begins lighting a few candles here and there to give the room some ambiance. She looks so fucking cute doing it, it's kind of ridiculous.

God. She really had it bad for this girl.

By the time Quinn finishes, Santana is too, and she's carrying their plates over to the small dining table.

"Nice socks." she comments, noticing for the first time that snowflake's date attire included fuzzy lime green socks on her feet.

"They're comfortable." Quinn shrugs, through her smile is a bit bashful. "I have others if you want to wear a pair of your own."

"Do you have red ones?"

Quinn shakes her head. "I have pink ones." she offers instead.

"That's not the same."

Quinn leans across the table and lights the small candle situated in the middle. "Pink is a kind of red." she points out.

"Not to me it ain't." Santana lingers by the blonde's chair, waiting for her to come and sit down, but Quinn remains standing for some unknown reason.

"You plan on sitting down any time soon, snowflake?"

Quinn looks over at her and returns just as easily, "Are you?"

Santana lightly rolls her eyes before indicating, "I'm trying to pull out your chair for you, snowflake. You know, all gentle-lady like."

"Well so am I." Quinn chuckles, gesturing to her own position by the other chair.

"Well we can't both do it." she crosses her arms.

"Ok." Quinn comes up beside her and holds out her fist. "Rock, paper, scissors then."

Santana quirks her brow. "You're serious?"

"How else can we settle this? Go on." Quinn encourages.

Sighing, she reluctantly holds out her fist. She's too hungry to argue.

"Rock. Paper. Scissors."

"Ha, I win." Santana rolls her eyes as Quinn covers her closed fist in triumph. Paper beats rock.

"M'lady." Quinn makes a show of pulling her chair out for her, forcing Santana to bite back a smile.

"Dork." she says, though she's pretty sure she's blushing a little too. She grudgingly sits down. "I'll get you next time."

Quinn settles down next to her, brow arched. "Already banking on a second date?" she teases.

"I know it. You know it." Santana shrugs, sending a confident smile her way. "Our awesome is too good to pass up."

Quinn smiles adorably. "That sounds about right." she chuckles, dropping her gaze and beginning to dig into her food.

Santana does the same. She all but inhales her plate, her hunger overtaking her again. "So how'd it go at the shelter?" she wonders, sitting back down after grabbing seconds.

"Great." Quinn nods. "We got a couple more dogs homes. For such a small town there is an over abundance of needy dogs. It's a shame though," she sighs, shaking her head. "Adoptions always drop once the holidays are over."

Santana nods understandingly. "Just don't get any ideas." she warns, shooting the blonde a pointed look over her water glass. "One furball is more than enough around here."

"Technically I have two." Quinn chuckles.

"You saying I fucking shed?"

Quinn shakes her head, unable to suppress her laugh. "No, but when you yawn, you look an awful lot like Marshmallow. The same goes for when you eat. And when you sleep...should I continue?" she grins, noting her unamused expression.

"I wouldn't." Santana glares, chewing around her food.

"Okay. So how was your abuela's?"

"That vieja made enough tamales to feed a small third world country." she shrugs.

"So the supply should at least last you two weeks." Quinn jokes. "They're delicious by the way."

"I'm gonna have to run a bazillion miles to burn off all the calories." she grumbles, pushing around the last of her rice on her plate.

"Or you could just not eat so much." Quinn suggests, eyes pulling up to meet hers.

Santana just looks at her.

"Or not."

Shortly after they're done eating, they settle on the sofa to watch Home Alone. It just started playing on the tv and since both of them were very much in a food coma daze, neither felt inclined to try and find a better movie.

"Shouldn't we be watching something romantic?" Santana questions about twenty minutes in, comfortably sitting slouched against the cushions, feet on the coffee table. Next to her sits Quinn in the same position.

"Huh?"

Santana removes her gaze from the television screen, looking back at her. "This is a date. Doesn't that mean we're kinda obligated to watch some kind of romantic comedy?"

"But you hate rom-coms." Quinn frowns. "_I_ hate rom-coms—"

"Rom-coms made after 1955." she corrects with a snicker.

Quinn narrows her gaze. "Don't hate on the classics."

Santana's eyes flit to the ceiling. "God forbid." she teases. "Fred and Ginger just might rise from the grave and strike me dead with their tap shoes."

"Keep up with the wise cracks and you forfeit your right to dessert." Quinn playfully warns.

Santana raises her brow hopefully. "Dessert doesn't happen to be you chocolate-dipped and covered with sprinkles?"

At Quinn's incredulous glance, her smile falters questioningly. "What? I'm a sucker for sprinkles."

Quinn shakes her head and smiles. "No, I am not for dessert, Santana."

"Then I'll keep with the wise cracks." she shrugs, reverting her attention forward.

"You say that now but in about another forty-five minutes you'll be begging me to feed you again." Quinn says knowingly.

She snorts at the very idea, then steals a sidelong glance at Quinn. "Santana Lopez don't beg." she says as a matter of fact.

"I seem to recall several instances to the contrary." Quinn quips.

Santana scoffs disbelievingly and folds her arms across her chest. "Name one."

"How about all those times you woke me up at all hours of the night asking me to feed you waffles, pancakes...crepes! You're worse than Marshmallow."

Santana rolls her eyes. "Right because he only asks for pop-tarts at two in the morning. You just drop those suckers in the toaster and you're done. My preferences, on the other hand, require batter and mixing and pans. _Such_ an inconvenience."

Quinn narrows her eyes at the sarcasm. "Not what I meant, smartass. But now that you mention it," she smirks, "Yes an inconvenience. I can't wait for the day _you_ start repaying the favor."

"Bitch I've done that plenty." she scoffs. "If we took you down to the hospital right now and got you some x-rays your bacon clogged arteries would attest to that."

"Santana, please." Quinn bats her eyelashes and says with an exaggerated sigh, "Enough with the sweet talk. You're liable to make me swoon at any given moment."

Santana laughs in spite of herself. "At least it'll give me an excuse to give you mouth to mouth resuscitation." she smiles saucily, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Quinn shakes her head. "None for me thanks." she chuckles.

"Fine. Suffocate. Slip into a coma. Whatever. See if I care." she shrugs, shifting her attention away in disinterest. "There are other fish in the sea." she sniffs.

Quinn scoots closer. Then leans against her shoulder and reminds, "But you've only got one snowflake."

"That _you_ know of."

Santana flinches away with a scowl when Quinn smacks her arm.

"Jerk."

About forty-five minutes later Santana finds herself hungry again (not at all like Quinn had predicted). So after fixing herself another plate and reheating it, she plops herself down on the floor with her back against the sofa. Marshmallow, of course, patiently waits beside her for some kind of food to drop.

"Santana?"

Instinctively, Santana moves her plate out of reach of the blonde sitting behind her on the couch. She'd asked Quinn like half a dozen times if she wanted anything while she was up and she said no, yet the second she was situated, snowflake started stealing little bites left and right. "If you want a tamale get your own. I've given you enough of my food already."

"What were your past Christmases like?"

Brow furrowing at that random question, Santana turns her head to look at her over her shoulder.

"Huh?"

Reclined on the sofa with her head propped up by her hand, Quinn nods at the television where 90's cute kid Macaulay Culkin was currently trimming his little nugget Christmas tree all by his lonesome.

"Oh." Now Santana understands. Kind of. "Well, you know, the usual." she shrugs, frowning slightly. "Spent it with my grams."

Admittedly she was having a hard time thinking of specific memories. You know, like the details.

Weird.

She tells Quinn as much.

"I don't remember Christmases either." she murmurs. "I mean I know I had to have spent them alone, but I don't really have any memory of it." Quinn shakes her head to herself, probably adding Christmases to the already long list of things she had trouble remembering.

"Do you think we're the the only ones who have trouble remembering the past?" she asks suddenly.

"Probably." Santana shrugs. "I mean I'd be a little weird if everyone else did too. Then that'd be something like out of the Twilight Zone."

After a moment of silence, comes, "I had another weird dream."

Santana feels her expression shift uncomfortably. "About that Anna character again?" she asks, unable to help herself.

Quinn shakes her head unknowingly. "A little girl. She was shaking me, trying to get me to come and play with her, asked if I wanted to build a snowman."

"Okay." she nods with a slight chuckle. "Weird. Then what?"

"I woke up. It was strange. Something about her face was so familiar..." Quinn trails off with a tired shake of her head. It was the same old story.

"Probably just some kid you've seen around the park or something and their image stuck with you." she reasons. "They say even though we might not know a person personally, if we've seen them in real life even before, like even for a second, they can show up in our dreams."

Quinn looks over at her, intrigued. "And who told you that?"

"Google." she shrugs.

She may or may have not looked into it.

"Right."

Since neither one of them still didn't have any real answers for their weird dream dilemma, they let the subject drop on its own.

"Brittany, uh, knows we're together by the way." Quinn brings up, standing and taking her empty plate the second after Santana sets it down on the coffee table.

Her gaze follows the blonde back to the kitchen. "You told her?" she repeats, mildly surprised. Not that she was upset by it or anything. Brittany would find out sooner or later.

"Yeah," Quinn nods. "But that's all I really told her." she assures. "That we talked things out and we're uh...seeing each other. I hope you don't mind."

Santana shakes her head. "Course not." Standing up, she dusts the crumbs her shirt before sitting back down on the sofa. "You know Brittany will want a full replay when we see her."

Quinn nods in agreement as she comes around the kitchen counter. "Did you know she actually got herself sick on purpose? Just so we'd talk."

"Figured as much." she lightly scoffs, not really surprised by it. "That girl can scheme along with the best of them when she wants to."

"Thank god for that though." Quinn sits down next to her and unwraps the napkin containing some Christmas cookies in her lap. Cookies which immediately peak Santana's interest. "Who knows how long we would've gone avoiding each other."

"Yeah." Santana watches Quinn take a bite of her cookie, then chuckles to herself when a little bit of icing is left behind on the corner of her mouth. Reaching forward, she delicately wipes it off with her thumb. "We definitely owe her one."

Quinn looks at her, her smile shy, and Santana shifts closer, eyeing the blonde's slightly parted lips. She hears Quinn's breath catch with anticipation.

Smiling inwardly, Santana leans in and...

bypasses her lips altogether, sinking her teeth instead in the cookie still in Quinn's hand.

Santana pulls back and her gaze flits upward. A slow, wicked grin plays across her lips.

Quinn's expression was priceless.

"I _really_ should have seen that coming." she sighs, shaking her head at her own naiveté.

"Yeah you should have." Santana chuckles around a mouthful, chewing, then teasing, "Guess that's just the blonde in you."

"Keep up with the insults and you can count on this blonde never being _in you_."

And cue the cookie spit-take.

_Jesus fucking Christ_. "Warn a girl before you say stuff like that!" she swears, coughing violently.

"Oh like you warned me earlier today when you ambushed me with kisses?" Quinn questions through a slight laugh.

"This is different." she scowls, reaching for a napkin off the coffee table. "I could've just choked right now."

"And I definitely could have choked on your tongue this morning."

"Unless I had like a freakish lizard tongue I find that highly unlikely." she scoffs, glaring back at the blonde over her shoulder.

Quinn just chuckles. "Speaking of things we find highly unlikely: your so-called psychic Mexican third eye."

"Don't go doubting the eye now." she warns, shifting herself around so she was facing Quinn again. "Not when I foresee good fortune in your imminent future. Even though you totally don't deserve it."

"Oh?" Quinn wonders, her brow arching curiously. "What kind of good fortune?"

Pressing her knee into the cushions, Santana swings a leg over Quinn's thighs and settles down on her lap. In spite of everything she had the desire to get her some sweet snowflake kisses.

"Well I'm about to kiss you - that's about as much good fortune as a person can get." she says with a cocky smile.

Quinn just shakes her head, an endearing blush blossoming across her face as Santana cups her cheek and presses a lingering kiss to her lips.

Quinn kisses back with a shyness at first, but gradually gains confidence as their mouths find their way back to this all too familiar dance. Shortly thereafter, when their position is no longer to her liking, Santana pulls away. Quinn automatically rises up at this, whimpering, lips aching to restore contact.

Sharing the sentiment, Santana shifts out of her lap eagerly and Quinn twists around, easing herself back against the sofa as Santana proceeds to climb over her. Quinn lifts her head and reunites their lips, her hand returning to Santana's cheek, then sliding around to her back.

Feeling her hand pushing down against the small of her back, Santana eases some of her weight onto her, keeping her upper half propped up by her arms. They kiss slow and deep for a long while, wanting to savor each exchange and refamiliarize themselves languidly.

Santana takes Quinn's bottom lip between hers, sucking gently, enjoying the feel of her inexplicably soft, and wet, lips against her tongue. She tastes of sugar and something else that can only be described as _Quinn_. It drives her taste buds absolutely wild.

Quinn moans softly as her teeth nibble on her bottom lip and her fingers tangle in Santana's hair insistently. Spurred on her response, Santana kisses her more fervently, lips, teeth, and tongue combining for the most delicious assault.

"Oh," Quinn breathes out when they're finally forced apart for air.

Santana grins down at the cute dazed smile plastered across her swollen lips. "That's all you got to say?" she questions cheekily.

"Shut up." Quinn blushes beneath her. "It's called being breathless."

"Well get used to it, snowflake." she murmurs, happily kissing her again. "Macking with me comes with many perks. Including being constantly rendered breathless."

"Among other things." Quinn hums, her lips capturing her bottom lip. She teases Santana with her teeth, applying just the right amount of pressure to make the hairs on the back of neck stand on end.

Effectively coaxing Santana into another drawn out make out session.

It lasts for a good long while until their kissing drive begins to calm down. Since neither one of them expected, or really wanted, things to go further than that, they allow their kisses to slow organically. They didn't want to get too ahead of themselves.

Quinn has her eyes closed in content. "It's getting late." she eventually comments, as Santana rests her forehead against hers, still catching her breath.

Santana turns her head and starts nuzzling her skin, only paying half attention. "Is it now?"

"Yeah." Santana frowns when she feels Quinn's hands gently push against her shoulders. "So we should probably wrap things up..." she says.

"Wait." Santana leans back and sits on her haunches, staring down at the blonde incredulously. "You're kicking me out?"

Quinn props herself up by her elbows and quirks a single brow. "You didn't expect to sleep over and share my bed on the first date, did you? Come now, Santana what kind of girl do you think I am?" she laughs.

"A mean one." she answers, pouting slightly and really fucking hoping her snowflake was just yanking her chain.

"You can't stay here, Santana." Quinn says gently, sighing a little. "Your grandmother expects you home."

"So?" she snorts, not accepting that as a reasonable explanation at all.

"So you already slept over last night without telling her."

"So I'll do it again." she shrugs. "She won't care. It's not like we've never done this before, snowflake." she reminds, but grudgingly standing up at Quinn's insistence.

"I just, I feel like we should pace ourselves." Quinn shrugs, smoothing down her dress once she was upright. "If we spend all our time together, day and night, you'll just get sick of me all the more faster and I just want to delay that happening for as long as I can."

Santana frowns deeply, surprised by that remark. "I'm not gonna get sick of you."

Quinn obviously seems skeptical of that but doesn't say anything about it. "Hey, I'm not." she insists, gently forcing the blonde to meet her gaze. "I'm not."

"Can I hold you to that?" Quinn murmurs weakly, searching Santana's eyes.

Instead of answering, Santana cups her face and kisses her lips deeply, hoping to ease her doubts.

Quinn sinks into the kiss. Then, after a moment, returns it just as passionately before pulling back and slipping her arms around Santana's waist.

Santana automatically wraps her arms around her and kisses her hair. Their embrace lingers.

Her chin resting on Quinn's shoulder, and fingers mentally crossed, Santana asks, "So are you still gonna kick me out?"

"Afraid so." she sighs, lifting her head.

Santana pushes her face into the crook of her neck and grumbles unintelligibly, "But I wants to get my mack on."

"We have all the time in the world for that." Quinn promises, dusting a kiss to her cheek before stepping out of her arms completely. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Neither am I." she says pointedly, the words holding a double meaning as she straightens her posture.

Quinn nods but looks at her with pleading eyes.

She heaves a dramatic sigh. "Fine. I'll go."

After putting her shoes back on, Santana grabs her coat and purse. Quinn lingers by the door, waiting.

Santana turns around at the last second before heading out. "Wanna hang tomorrow?"

Quinn presses her lips together and nods eagerly, her cheeks all smiles.

Smirking, Santana gives her one last peck on the lips. "Try not to miss me too much."

She steps out into the hallway.

"Can't make any promises." Quinn smiles.

Once the door closes behind her, Santana proceeds toward the stairs. She doesn't make it to the stairs though, halfway catching a glimpse of something useful hanging above some neighbor's doorway.

Smirking to herself, Santana promptly turns on her heel and returns to Quinn's apartment.

As soon as the blonde comes to the door, she lifts up her right hand, dangling the piece of mistletoe above their heads.

Quinn breathes a small laugh, her eyes straight away going to the green plant. "Where on earth did you get that?"

"Swiped it from your neighbor's door." she shrugs, waving it above her head more pointedly and puckering up her lips.

Quinn sighs, and her gaze lowers to meet hers. "Santana you can't just steal another person's—"

"And yet." Grinning, Santana forces her way in, lips capturing hers the second the door was securely closed behind them.

"San—"

"Less yapping, more macking, snowflake." Santana twirls them around and pins Quinn up against the door frame, her lips working their sweet Lopez magic until the blonde was legit putty in her arms.

After a few minutes Quinn, looking thoroughly kissed, finally shifts away from her and quite literally pushes her back out.

"_Goodnight_, Santana."

Santana smiles deviously, knowing they'd be picking this up tomorrow, right as soon as they fucking saw each other again.

"Night, snowflake."

—

"I am getting too old for this shit." Santana mutters under her breath, quickening her pace as she makes her way through the heart of town.

The 25th has finally rolled around which meant whiter snow, a brighter sun, and for some unknown reason, more people out and about wishing each other a disgustingly cheery _Merry Christmas_ in that obnoxious way only small towners - townees? - can get away with.

Seriously. Whatever happened to the days when people spent Christmas morning inside, behind closed doors, where only family members were subjected to such nauseating mirth?

Halfway to Brittany's house, Santana meets up with Quinn who was coming from her place in the opposite direction.

_Finally things are looking up_, she thinks with a slight smile, meanwhile carefully shifting her hold on the large present currently testing the strength of her arms.

"Hey, you." Quinn greets happily, looking too damn adorable for her own good. Santana does her best to ignore the insane urge she has to kiss her lips hello.

"Bah, humbug."

Quinn's smile falters sympathetically. "Too early?" she guesses.

"Too early." she confirms with a nod. "And people won't stop wishing me a Merry Christmas." she grumbles.

Quinn scoffs a laugh.

"Oh the horror." she teases. "Snix is the new Scrooge this year, I see."

Santana just shakes her head and starts them back on their way.

"Maybe you should try going to bed early for once." Quinn suggests, walking along side her.

"Do I look like a senior citizen?" she snorts. "Besides, I just need a little more coffee in my system. Then I'll be my usual charming self again."

"One can only hope." Quinn murmurs, earning herself a playful glare from Santana. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices that the present in Santana's arms has air holes. "Don't tell me you got Brittany that gecko she wanted."

"It's a chameleon she wanted." she corrects before answering, "And no, of course not. I got her something even better."

"You got her a cat, didn't you?"

Santana does a double take. In that same moment, her present meows. "How'd you..." she trails off, perplexed.

What was snowflake, psychic now?

"Mercedes." Quinn explains with a light laugh. "You think she doesn't know you've been keeping it in her family's garden shed but she totally does."

"What, Wheezy call you up and tell you this?" she demands, slightly upset that her stealth-mode hadn't been all that stealth after all.

"We talk on occasion and she happened to mention it." Quinn shrugs. "What kind of cat?" she asks curiously.

"A stray."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Remember just because you take off its' collar and toss it in the bushes doesn't make it a stray, Santana."

Now it's her turn to roll her eyes.

"It is." she insists, her frown bordering on defensive. "I picked it up off the streets. It wasn't hard. It didn't even try to run - not that it could."

Quinn blinks in confusion, her brow furrowing. "Is it disabled?

"It's fat as hell, so yes."

Quinn quirks her brow. "So you got her another Lord Tubbington?" she questions, amused.

"Pretty sure this one's a chick." she nods, glancing down at the box. "Sure acts like a bitch."

"So _Lady_ Tubbington."

"_Behind every great lord is a great lady_." Santana quotes with a slight shrug. "Do you think Britt will like her?"

"If she's as fat a cat as you say she is, Brittany will love her." Quinn assures, chuckling softly.

Smiling, Santana leads them up the steps to said blonde's house.

"So what'd you get her?" she wonders, stopping on the doorstep while Quinn reaches out and rings the doorbell.

"Something soft." the blonde answers vaguely.

"Wanky." Santana smirks.

"Dork."

A couple seconds later, the front door swings open. "Merry Christmas!" Brittany brightly exclaims, looking appropriately like a little kid on Christmas morning, excitement oozing out of her pores.

Her mood significantly raised thanks to her blondes, Santana steps through the doorway, grinning, "Ho ho ho Santana Claus in da house!"

"Ho ho ho is right." Brittany snickers as she passes by.

Santana narrows her eyes. "You're lucky my arms are full, B."

Brittany just smiles and bats her lashes cheekily.

"How are you feeling, Britt?" Quinn asks, while Santana makes her way into the the living room, eager to set down this fat tabby and give her arms a rest.

"Better." Brittany nods, coming in behind Quinn. "Thank god for modern medicine." Skipping over to the tree, she quickly grabs the already designated piles of presents (of course eager as ever to begin). "You guys take forever, you know."

Santana sighs, relieved to have her arms back, and plops herself down on the couch next to her snowflake. "Yes well Quinn kept trying to steal my innocence on the way. She just can't keep her hands off me."

She doesn't have to look over at said blonde to know hazel eyes just doubled their size.

Chuckling, Brittany shakes her head in mock exasperation. "Typical Quinn."

"How about some coffee Britt?" Quinn suggests suddenly, face not at all flushed with embarrassment.

"Right up." With a clap of her hands, Brittany disappears into the adjacent kitchen. Meanwhile Quinn and Santana make themselves comfortable.

"Where are the parentals, B?" Santana wonders, turning her head so she was loud enough for the blonde to hear.

"Went for a morning stroll. They figured we'd want some alone time while we opened presents." Brittany says, expertly balancing three mugs on a Christmas tray.

Santana gratefully takes a mug, her taste buds itching for the caffeinated beverage. "I don't know what I'd do without coffee..." she murmurs, taking a long sip.

"Probably twenty-five to life in the state penitentiary." Brittany chuckles, setting her own mug on the coffee table.

She turns her head and frowns slightly. "What's in here?" she wonders, referring to the box at her feet. "And what's with the holes?"

"I dunno." Santana shrugs, exchanging a knowing smile with Quinn. "Open it and find out. But be careful." she warns. "It might try and poke your eye out."

Brittany snorts. "If I had a dollar for every time a guy said that to me..." she trails off, removing the lid with a gasp. "Oh my god!"

"Merry Christmas!" Santana grins, laughing at the way Brittany struggles to lift up the ticked off looking feline with the red bow.

"San, she's adorable." Brittany thrills, pushing the cat's less than pleased face against her own and nuzzling it.

"Meet Lady Tubbington." she introduces. "Figured Lord Tubbington could do with a missus."

Before she knows it, Brittany's setting down the cat and barreling her over with a patented Brittany S. Pierce hug. "Thank you, San." she says appreciatively, her embrace conveying that clearly on its own.

Santana laughs, though barely able to breath. Blondie was uncannily strong. "There's more presents, you know." she nods, indicating to the bag full of presents she'd dropped off yesterday.

Brittany shakes her head, pulling away. "First you guys." she says, practically vibrating with excitement as she passes her gifts along to Quinn and Santana.

"Britt, open something else before you explode." Santana orders, knowing her friend all too well. She'd waited this long to open presents and Santana wasn't about to let her wait any longer.

That's all the consent Brittany needs. Within seconds wrapping paper is literally fluttering to the floor like confetti.

While Brittany fawns over her new art supplies - more paint than Picasso ever used, she's sure - Santana starts on her presents (hey, she loved free swag too).

She opens Brittany's first. The first one is the _I'm hot. You're cold. Let's cuddle_ t-shirt Brittany had bought her that day they'd gone shopping for Quinn. The second, a gorgeous original painting of a midnight forest that would immediately go up on her wall when she got home, and the third was a cool concert dvd of Amy Winehouse singing live.

"Thanks B." she smiles in earnest. She leans forward and hugs the girl. "These are amazing."

After she sits back down, Santana peers over at Quinn to see what Brittany had given her. "Wow Britt, you've really outdone yourself." she comments over Quinn's shoulder, in awe of the painting in her lap. The ice castle was scary realistic.

"It's exquisite." Quinn murmurs in agreement, a somewhat dazed expression on her face.

"I thought of you when I painted them." Brittany says, watching happily as Quinn unwrapped her second painting - a fjord mountainside.

"One day these bad boys are gonna be worth millions." Santana nods, sure of it.

"Thank you, Brittany." Quinn says gratefully, standing to embrace her fellow blonde after receiving her her third gift, a box set of old movies.

"You're welcome." Brittany chuckles, giving her a squeeze. Turning her attention, she opens the lid of the box Quinn had given her. "Awesome!" she exclaims.

Santana looks over in time to see the blonde shove a wool cap with furry ear flaps on top of her head. "Just what my winter wardrobe needed. Thanks, Q!"

Grinning, Santana whips out her phone and snaps a picture, which Brittany promptly poses for. "You look dope, B."

Brittany nods back at the other blonde. "What'd San get you, Quinn?"

Santana turns her head and shifts her position as Quinn reaches for one of her gifts. Admittedly she was a little nervous. Quinn had been so fucking hard to shop for. And she certainly didn't help none with all her _I don't need anything, reallys_...

Swallowing her nerves, she watches with bated breath as Quinn unwraps her first gift: a cashmere scarf.

(She paid far more than a person should ever have to for a stupid scarf but Quinn was worth it).

"It's beautiful, Santana." she comments, fingering the soft fabric.

"I assume that's gonna be for all the hickeys you'll undoubtedly receive from Santana from now on, Quinn." Brittany chuckles, raising her brow suggestively at Santana.

Santana shakes her head, though smiles guiltily. Brittany knows her all too well.

"Thank you, Santana." Quinn says, meeting her gaze with a shy smile.

And fuck if Santana didn't feel her face go a little red. "I got you more." she says, clearing her throat in embarrassment and indicating to the small pile of gifts in between them.

Unsurprisingly Quinn shoots her that _you didn't have to_ look. But Santana just shrugs it off and watches, a little more easily this time, as Quinn picks up her second gift.

Snowflake laughs at the box once the wrapping paper's gone. "They're salt and pepper shakers." she explains unnecessarily. In the form of two ridiculously cute and jolly pigs. "For the bacon eater. Maybe having them in your kitchen will guilt you into cutting down on the pork."

"They're adorable." Quinn beams happily, her eyes all smiley and cute. "Thank you."

"Not too lame?" she hopes.

Quinn shakes her head and touches her cheek tenderly, her soft eyes expressing her gratitude and more, effectively melting Santana to the core.

Aw, jeez. The things this girl does to her.

"Ooh thanks for the pajamas, Q!" Brittany says, having gone back to opening her presents. She holds the set of pajamas up with cute purple narwhals, 'the unicorns of the sea' as Brittany called them, all over the pants.

"You're welcome, Britt." Quinn laughs. Turning to Santana, she hands her a present. "Here. You open one."

Grinning, Santana eagerly rips it open. It's a gift set of five of the hottest hot sauces from all over the country.

"That Guatemalan hot sauce you love is surprising hard to get a hold of." Quinn says, biting her lip anxiously. "Legally that is. Hopefully you don't mind these."

"You gotta know certain people." she says absently, taking in the package with as much awe as a child. "But I love these, thanks, snowflake." Lifting her gaze, she leans across and gives Quinn a soft peck on the lips. "Can't wait to try them."

While Santana crumbles up the wrapping paper, Quinn opens her third gift. A dream catcher in her favorite shades of blues and purples. "You hang it over your bed, it's supposed to keep bad dreams away." she explains, smiling a little as Quinn fingers the little wolf charm she added. "The wolf's for protection."

Quinn shakes her head, clearly touched. "Thank you." she whispers, her eyes a little misty.

Santana dusts another kiss to her lips before passing her one last present, the smallest one.

Quinn looks at her in disbelief. "You're spoiling me."

Santana rolls her eyes, scoffing, "Please. Am not. This last one I made so be kind with your criticism."

It wasn't anything particularly fancy. Just a handmade - but boutique worthy (in her opinion) - bracelet with their favorite colors - red and blue - mixed in with each other.

"Got some string. Some beads. And the right instructions off of Pinterest. And tada." she gestures to the piece of jewelry somewhat lamely.

"She just about committed herself in the process." Brittany informs, watching the exchange.

Santana blushes hard. "So crafts aren't my forte." she mutters. "Shut up, B."

She didn't need Quinn to know all about the blood, sweat, and tears (literally) put behind the simple gift. It'd be super embarrassing.

(Snix had definitely made an appearance during the assembling process).

"Put it on me?" Quinn requests, looking so ridiculously happy that it leaves Santana feeling super giddy. And shaky. It takes her a few tries to get the bracelet properly fastened.

Thankfully the clasp doesn't break when she snaps it in place.

Afterward, Quinn turns around behind her. "Here."

Santana stares at her for a moment before taking the offered gift. It's small but long in length from what she can tell. Like some kind of a pencil case or something.

Santana removes the wrapping paper, completely unassuming, still riding on the high that came from totally nailing her gift choices for Quinn, and opens the lid.

When she looks down and sees the silver necklace shining back at her in all its glory, her breath catches. Like, literally catches. In her throat.

"Holy shit."

Santana blinks a couple times just to ensure she wasn't hallucinating it. The pendant was a simple silver heart and matching chain, but absolutely gorgeous. "Babe," she starts slowly, meeting Quinn's expectant gaze with a raised brow. "This is _real_ silver."

"Well, yeah." Quinn nods, laughing nervously. "That's what you said you wanted...right?" she questions, her smile faltering as the internal panic begins to set in. "Bling?"

"_I want bling. I can't be any more specific than that_." quoted Brittany, nodding in confirmation. "That's what you told us."

"Yeah but..." She'd been joking. Well kind of.

With a shake of her head, Santana closes the case.

"This must've cost you a fortune."

_Here she is giving me legit jewelry and what do I give her? A stupid bracelet any twelve year-old could make_.

"It wasn't that expensive really." Quinn assures, sensing her discomfort. "Christmas sales and what not. It was a steal really."

"Way to make me feel cheap Q." she grumbles, trying to make light of it but her words come out sounding more serious than intended.

"Santana." Quinn sighs, touching her arm.

"Soon as Christmas is over I'm getting you something just as awesome." she declares, staring back at her with a firm nod.

"Santana, no."

"Yes." she nods, her mind made up. "I've got plenty money saved up. Trust me."

"You already gave me jewelry." Quinn patiently reminds, showing her wrist.

Santana eyes the offending item and scowls. "That's nothing but beads and string." she says, reaching for the bracelet. "Here give it back."

Quinn swats her hand away. "No, I love it." she maintains, and before Santana can protest anymore, the blonde shifts her position and sits down on her lap.

"I love it." Quinn repeats in earnest, her lips then softly shutting her up of any doubts.

Santana accepts the kiss, and then some, even though she still has every intention of getting her girl some equally epic bling.

Huh.

_Her_ girl.

She really liked the sound of that.

Really fucking liked it.

"Here." Santana turns around and picks up one of the other gifts she brought, to distract from what she feels is her borderline dorky smile.

"_Santana_." Quinn sighs, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Relax, it's not for you." she chuckles, handing over the not-so neatly wrapped present. (Her wrapping skills weren't so great if it wasn't box shaped). "It's for the furball."

Quinn quirks her brow in surprise. "Marshmallow?" she clarifies, making Santana reluctantly nod. "So you are warming up to him after all!" she grins.

"Am not." she quickly denies, disliking Quinn's expression. "It's the season of giving and shit. I'm like obligated, no thanks to you."

"And it's not like I got him a solid gold water dish or anything." she continues, watching as the blonde tears away the paper. "It's just a stupid chew toy."

"No, it's _Rachel Berry_." Quinn realizes with a start.

Prompting Brittany to look up sharply from her gifts. "Say what?"

"This chew toy looks uncannily like Rachel Berry." Quinn confirms, utterly perplexed, as she turns the doll around to show Brittany. "It even has the argyle socks."

"Wait." Brittany looks at the doll for a second, then turns her incredulous gaze back to Santana. "Santana, you're giving Marshmallow your Rachel voodoo doll?"

Quinn's head does an all too amusing double-take. "Voodoo doll?" she repeats in horror.

"What?" Santana raises her shoulders innocently. "You know how annoying I find her. So I got bored one day. _Relax_." she sighs exaggeratedly, rolling her eyes.

"It doesn't work. I would know."

She says that last part under her breath.

"What on earth did Rachel ever do to you to evoke such hatred?" Quinn wants to know, eyeing the doll uneasily.

"Her wide-eyed, Keane-painting approach to life makes my teeth hurt and my breasts ache with rage." she says simply.

"Oh is that all?" Quinn scoffs.

"Just the tip of the iceberg, snowflake." she nods. "Trust me." Turning to Brittany, she inquires, "You got any food, B? I'm starved."

Brittany shakes her head as she gets to her feet. "Story of your life, San." she chuckles.

As Brittany carefully steps over the mess on the floor, Quinn looks back at Santana questioningly. "Didn't you already eat at your house?"

While true, Santana can't help but be a smart ass about it. "This may come as a surprise, Quinn, but people eat multiple times a day."

"Especially lesbians." Brittany quips over her shoulder.

—

Once presents are over and done with, the three of them sit and watch the Christmas parade on tv and chow down on omelets. (Santana, of course, took the opportunity and tried out one of her new hot sauces; it was so hot she was pretty sure she saw through time.

Needless to say it's a new favorite.)

Then, when Brittany's parentals return, they decide to take things to Quinn's place and continue their day of laziness there. (Since everything was closed and Brittany still had her cold, there wasn't much else for them to do otherwise). So until they had to get ready for the big Christmas dinner provided by the church, they resorted to playing board games.

At Brittany's insistence, of course.

Now on paper Monopoly sounds like the most boring game ever, and it kind of is because it feels never ending, but in spite of that Santana still manages to have more fun, and laugh harder, than she's had in a while.

Quinn, as it turned out, was a regular Donald Trump and had of chain of hotels on just about every property she owned within the blink of an eye. And all too gladly she took Santana's hard earned money every chance she got.

(And every time, in return, Santana threatened to send Marshmallow to Korea where he'd be made into food for Kim Jong Whatshisface).

Meanwhile Brittany always had her ass in jail, and her frustrations got to the point where she actually tried to call the 800 number on the back of the instruction manual to complain to Parker Brothers.

It wasn't until Santana was officially driven to the poor house and Brittany refused to leave jail, knowing she'd just be thrown back in, that Quinn was declared the winner.

(Though Santana still thinks as acting banker the blonde was giving herself a little more on the side, but that was neither here nor there...if she ever wanted more snowflake kisses she thought it smart to avoid embezzlement accusations.)

Anyways.

It felt good to have things back to normal again. It was first time the three of them had really hung out together since she and Quinn had made up and Santana was so glad things weren't weird or anything between them. She'd definitely worried, what with three being an odd number, that when two paired off it would shift the dynamic for the worst.

But so far, so good.

Santana just prayed to god it stayed that way.

You know what else she prayed for?

A plague.

Because there were way too many fucking people on this earth.

When she mentions this aloud, Brittany just laughs. "Santana, you are so anti-social."

"All I'm saying is if anyone tries to make small talk with me, I'll shank 'em." she says simply as they round the corner leading to the church. "I swear I will."

For some god unknown reason in their small town it was normal to celebrate the holidays with each other via a town wide potluck dinner thing. The whole ordeal involved lots of people, lots of food, and lots of god awful Christmas cheer contained in a single space.

In short it was like her own personal hell.

"I've got the shiv in my purse and everything. I'm ready."

Beside her, Quinn shakes her head, rolling her eyes lightly. "You do not, Santana."

"Fine. I don't. But I can easily improvise if necessary. All I need is a fork."

"We'll be sure to keep you away from those then." Quinn chuckles after exchanging amused glances with Brittany.

"Yeah," the other blonde nods. "All you'll get is a spoon."

"Hey, you'd be surprised by the kind of damage a person can do with a spoon." she points out, looking back at both blondes.

"No silverware at all then." They agree.

Santana shrugs. "I can eat with my hands, that's okay."

"That's your preferred way of doing things anyways isn't it?" Brittany teases, nudging her with her elbow.

"You make me sound like an animal." she frowns, which only deepens when Quinn and Brittany exchange another pointed look.

"Santana I've seen you kill a whole turkey by yourself with just your teeth."

"You have not." she glares.

Brittany's eyes flit to the sky. "Chicken. Same thing."

"Is not." she scowls indignantly. "It's hella smaller. And anyways I say we go back to Quinn's and—"

"Play another round of Monopoly?" Quinn suggests all too happily.

"_Hell no_." She shoots the blonde a playful glare. "You're a dirty little cheat and all Britt does is sit in jail."

"There were twice as many _go to jail_ cards in that game than there were supposed to be." Brittany insists sourly. "Next time we're playing Clue. I'll totally own you both playing that one."

The three of them head over to the entrance where they're immediately greeted by the pastor, much to Santana's chagrin. Church was not something she did willingly and frequently opted out of (when she could get away with it). "I don't even see why we have to go to this stupid thing." she grumbles afterward, scratching at the side of her neck.

If all this Christmas cheer was making her break out into hives...

"Your abuela expects you here." Quinn reminds, glancing around the room with mild apprehension. Large groups of people weren't her cup of tea either but for different reasons.

Brittany stands between them and nods her head. "It'll be fun." she says, for both their benefit. "And look at all the food!"

"That's the one upside of the holidays." Santana admits, admittedly perking up at the sight of all that glorious grub. "Aside from you know, the presents and the fact I can wear as much red as I want and have it come across as festive."

"Instead of your usual 'lady of the night' vibe?" Brittany teases with a laugh.

"Shut up, B."

Maneuvering through the plastic chairs, Santana commandeers the first empty table she sees. Then, when when they're too damn slow to take off their coats, ditches Quinn and Brittany to get herself some food. (If she had waited any longer Snix would've made an appearance, which would've resulted in a verbal beatdown from her abuela for making a scene).

Speaking of which: where was that senile Mexican hobbit?

Casting a quick glance over her shoulder only to come up empty-handed (not that she was really looked; hungry Snix was still hungry) Santana figures her abuela was off somewhere mingling with her old bitty friends and goes back to piling her food as much as her cheap ass paper plate would allow.

"You could have waited for us, you know." says Quinn once she and Brittany return from making their plates, while Santana's already halfway into demolishing her own.

"I would have starved. Then died." she says matter-of-factly, chewing around a mouthful. "Like Tiny Tim. Minus, you know, the gimpy leg."

"And what a Christmas tragedy that would have been." Brittany chuckles, taking the seat next to her.

"Hey guys." Santana looks up to find that Mercedes and Kurt have come up to their table, on their way to the food probably. "Merry Christmas."

"Sup, Wheezy." she grudgingly greets. "You're looking particularly cheerful. Did black Santa finally leave you a weave that doesn't resemble something you'd pull out of a clogged shower drain under your tree?"

"You're lucky it's the holidays, Satan." Mercedes glares.

"Santana, be nice." Brittany warns. "It's Christmas."

"AKA the 'Season of Giving'. I can't help it that my gift is insults." Shrugging, Santana's gaze slides over to Mercedes' gay bestie. "And what are you doing here, Hummel?" she wonders, only vaguely interested in an answer. "I thought you were like, an atheist."

"Saying you have to be Christian to celebrate Christmas is like saying you have to be pagan to celebrate Halloween." Kurt says dryly. "Not that I'm a fan of being surrounded by a headache inducing number of fashion atrocities, present company excluded of course, but my dad insisted we come, out of fear of my becoming a recluse."

"Pretty sure ulterior motives were also involved." Santana murmurs, noticing over his shoulder, across the way, that Mr. Hummel was chatting up Mrs. Hudson, aka Finn's mom.

Kurt, of course, follows her gaze and after taking one look at Mrs. Hudson's god awful Christmas turtleneck and jean vest combo, grimaces.

"Here's hoping those two find their way under the mistletoe tonight." Mercedes sits herself down at the table, opposite them. "What?" she chuckles, at Kurt's horrified glance. She raises her shoulders briefly. "They're cute."

"Speaking of." Santana shifts uncomfortably when Mercedes' smiling gaze settles on her - well, her and Quinn, to be exact.

"Guess you two patched things up." she comments, her smile sly.

Santana resists the urge to glance at Quinn. "Yeah, so what if we did?" she questions, warning the other girl with a glare.

Mercedes says nothing; just holds out her hand to Kurt, who - after rolling his eyes - slaps a crisp fifty dollar bill onto her awaiting palm.

Santana's eyes narrow at the exchange. "What's that about?"

"You know about our bet, Santana." Mercedes says, smiling happily at Ulysses S. Grant's face for a moment before stuffing the money into her pocket.

"Yeah, I do." she grits out, remembering well. Mercedes and Kurt had made a bet if her and Quinn got together before the New Year or not.

But how the fuck did they know about it already?

Naturally Santana turns to the sometimes loose-lipped blonde on her left. "Hey don't look at me!" Brittany exclaims indignantly. "I didn't say a word."

"You two gave yourselves away." Mercedes informs, lightly shaking her head. "Yesterday when you guys came into the restaurant for beignets." she clarifies. "Quinn had stars in her eyes and you had this ridiculous smile on your face that meant you either, killed your mortal enemy or got the girl. And since I saw Rachel alive and well earlier that day I assumed it was the latter."

Santana could feel her face flare up self-consciously. Seriously? How the fucking hell? She and Quinn hadn't acted any differently than they usually did.

Fuck. Wheezy was a hell of a lot more perceptive than she thought.

That, or her and Quinn seriously needed to work on their poker faces in public.

"You two breathe a word of this to anyone and so help you god." she warns in a low tone, leaning forward slightly as her gaze flickers between Mercedes and Kurt.

And fuck, they shouldn't even be talking about it here, of all fucking places with so many goddamn people around. Especially with her abuela somewhere in the fucking room.

Instinctively Quinn touches her hand to put her at ease but it ends up having the opposite desired effect, and instead the two of them jerk away from each other.

"Relax, Santana." Kurt's gaze flickers to Mercedes, then back again before proceeding with caution in his voice, "I know Mercedes and I have a thing for gossip but we're not so out of control that we'd risk outing anyone." he says seriously.

"Of course not." Mercedes agrees, frowning deeply. "That'd be a violation of the worst kind."

"Not to mention you'd murder us if we did." Kurt murmurs.

"Exactly. I'd have absolutely no problem committing _Hummelcide_."

"Well it isn't Christmas until Santana's threatened to maim and/or kill somebody." proclaims a familiar voice and Santana glares in contempt when Puck pulls up a chair to their table and sits down. "So what's got your tail in a bunch this time, Lopez? Another year of coal in your Christmas stocking?" he smirks.

"What are you doing here, Puckerman?" she scowls, resisting the urge to scratch at her neck again. "Don't you have a dreidel to play with somewhere?"

Granted everyone in town was invited to join tonight, christian or not, Santana still couldn't understand why he'd want to be here if he had the awesome 'get out of jail free' card aka the 'I'm a Jew' excuse.

If she was Jewish the last place she'd be was here.

(If she wasn't so into eating pork, she'd totally convert. Then her abuela wouldn't be able to drag to all these lame ass church events.)

"I'm here for the free food, duh." Puck scoffs, gesturing to the plate he'd brought to the table with him.

Santana rolls her eyes. "You're such a pig."

"Hey at least I chew my food. You just inhale." Puck then proceeds to mimic the action, making everyone at the table chuckle.

When Santana rounds on her for laughing, Brittany just shrugs. "What? He's not wrong."

As the night wore on more glee-clubbers stopped by intermittently to say 'hey' and the obligated 'Merry Christmas' before returning to their respected families. Sure they were all kinda, sort of, maybe not really friends within the walls of the choir room but since glee club was still considered really fucking lame by just about everyone their age, no one was really looking to risk reminding people of their involvement.

Especially here. Knowing the adults, if they lingered in each other's presence for too long someone from the church might try and coerce them into providing a little holiday entertainment.

And God knows none of them wanted that.

Fortunately it never comes to that.

_Unfortunately_ though not even a stomach full of ridiculously good food could keep Santana content for long - not that that was surprising. All the fake cheer was giving her a major headache but what was really driving her up the wall was the fact she had to act all platonic like with Quinn. She couldn't hold her hand or kiss her, let alone allow her fucking gaze to linger on her.

And fuck, she wasn't even into PDA but she never realized how into physical contact she was until she was suddenly deprived of it. And of the many things Santana Lopez didn't like: not being able to do or say as she pleased was at the very fucking top.

Finally, when the Christmas carols have successfully grated her last nerve, she can't take it anymore.

Santana stands up, then silently urges Quinn to do the same.

One of the many perks that comes with being a girl - you can always travel in numbers to use the restroom and no one will ever bat an eyelash about it.

As soon as they're out in the empty hallway, Santana all but drags her to the lesser known restroom, practically hidden, near the back of the building.

"Santana, what—"

The second the door clicks closed behind them, Santana is up on them snowflake lips like a damn bear on honey. Quinn makes this cute noise of surprise - of course not seeing this coming - and her hands automatically fly to her shoulders for stability, Santana having pinned her against the sink. Quinn struggles to catch up to her pace, her brain obviously trying to rationalize this sudden turn of events, but Santana just swallows her every muffled attempt for answers until her brain finally gives up and and stops thinking.

Santana forces herself to pull away only when oxygen deprivation becomes an issue for them both.

Quinn blinks slowly. "What..." Her words fail her. She tries again when there's a little more oxygen in her brain. "What was that for?"

Santana can't help but smile smugly at how adorably dazed she looks. She really hopes to god she never stops having this effect on her snowflake.

"As it turns out I can't go without kissing you for a long time without threatening my sanity." she shrugs. "So keep them lips puckered." she murmurs, already leaning in for a second helping.

But Quinn lightly pushes against her shoulders. "But what if we get caught? Your abuela..."

"You think I didn't make sure there was absolutely no chance she'd come looking for us?" Not that she would ever have reason to. But even if she did, Brittany knows how to play interference.

"I made sure she was preoccupied." Santana assures, really wanting to get off the topic of her grandmother before it totally killed her macking mood. "Now c'mere you."

Hands still on hips, she brings Quinn closer and cuts off her feeble protest with a kiss. It's a calmer exchange than their previous one, Santana wanting to give Quinn time to adjust and breathe. Last thing she wanted was her to pass out, which she looked very much on the verge of doing a few moments ago.

In the back of her mind Santana knew they couldn't just stay here and make out, as much as she wanted to, but every time she'd pull away, she'd look down into those mesmerizing hazel eyes and lose all will power to stop and dive back in for another taste. Sometimes it was Quinn who'd bridge the gap between them, cupping her cheek and reuniting their lips before she could think not to.

Granted both were trying valiantly to break the cycle they found themselves in but neither one was quite able to resist the other. It was a pathetic and probably sickening sight, had anyone been there to bear witness, which is probably why they couldn't stop chuckling in between kisses.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you're insatiable, Miss Lopez." Quinn teases against her lips.

Santana can't help the shudder that escapes her; _Miss Lopez_ just sounded so unintentionally sultry coming from Quinn.

"You are not one to talk, snowflake."

She leans in once more but Quinn turns her cheek.

"Nope. No more." she says with a light shake of her head, ignoring Santana's grumble of protest. "We've been in here long enough already."

"Fine." Santana heaves a resigned sigh. "But you might wanna take a minute to let that blush die down. It'd look super suspicious if you returned from the bathroom all flushed and embarrassed. People might think you clogged the toilet or something."

Quinn pulls a disgusted face. "That's so gross, Santana."

"That's life." she shrugs. She pecks her on the lips one last time before turning to check herself out in the mirror. "And we're totally picking this up later, by the way."

"Of course we are."

Santana just smiles at her through the mirror.

Later, when the time comes, Santana departs for home with her abuela. But as soon as she's sure the old broad's out cold for the night, Santana slips out of the house and sneaks over to Quinn's apartment. She hasn't slept over since Quinn's birthday and granted that was only three days ago, she was tired of the fitful night's sleeps that came with not having Quinn by her side.

Honing her ninja skills, she climbs up the blonde's fire escape with practiced ease. Her bedroom window left unlocked, Santana carefully pushes upward and then slips inside. The lights were on but Quinn's bedroom was empty, save for Marshmallow who immediately perks up and barks at her arrival. As she shrugs off her jacket, she can hear the distant sound of running water coming from the bathroom.

Santana kicks off her boots. Tempted as she was to sneak on in and really give Quinn a scare, she decides against it, Quinn's all too inviting bed calling out to her. It'd been a long eventful day. So she plops herself down on the bed but doesn't let herself get too comfortable. Sure she was tired but she wanted to at least get in a few more snowflake kisses before going to sleep.

While she waits, Marshmallow joins her on the bed and settles down right next to her outstretched leg. Santana side eyes him. Maybe she's been too lenient with him these past few days. Just because she missed him for like a split second there did not mean she suddenly wanted a cuddle buddy - not that she cuddled, ever - with fur.

Santana looks up when she hears Quinn emerge from the bathroom. "When I came home, the Rachel Berry voodoo doll you gave him was destroyed beyond repair." she tells her, leaning against the doorway, watching them.

Huh.

Santana smirks back at the pup and rubs his head. "Good boy."

Quinn, already dressed for bed, shakes her head as she walks over to her dresser. "I have something for you, by the way."

Santana sits up straighter, her brow furrowing curiously. Picking an envelope off the top, Quinn then turns and hands it to her. "One last gift."

"Quinn." she sighs, shooting the blonde a long look.

Another gift on top of everything else? This girl was too much.

"It's a small one." she promises.

As Quinn settles down next to Marshmallow, Santana opens the envelope with some reluctance. She just hoped it wasn't something more extravagant than her necklace.

Peering inside, she all but sighs in relief when she sees it isn't. "A gift certificate to _Tony's_. Sweet. Thanks, snowflake." she smiles, leaning across Marshmallow and kissing Quinn's lips, getting a sweet blush out of her.

Quinn tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, cheeks still tinged pink. "Not just any old gift certificate." she says, tapping the piece of paper. "Unlimited breadsticks for a year whenever you want. You don't even have to order an entree or anything like that. Tony will give them to you by themselves."

Free breadsticks at her beck and call?

Hot damn, this really was Christmas.

Santana lifts her gaze, unable to help the quirk of her brow. "He does realize that giving _me_ free breadsticks is liable to put him out of business, right?"

"Oh he's well aware." Quinn nods with a slight smile. "But you don't seem to realize how persuasive I can be."

Santana feels her smile broaden. "You're awesome."

"Ridiculously so." Quinn agrees with a short laugh.

"Scram, pup." She says suddenly to Marshmallow, lightly smacking his backside, prompting him to hop off the bed. "This ain't no threesome."

Scooting closer, she leans in and tenderly kisses Quinn's lips. Meanwhile her hand moves to her cheek, a soft sigh escaping her. Santana nips playfully at the supple bottom lip hovering between her own. Then, with hands resting on her hips, she shifts Quinn into her lap, wanting her as close as possible.

For a moment they rest their foreheads together and simply breathe each other in. Holding her here like this, with Quinn's fingers lightly playing with the small hairs on the nape of her neck, brought about a strong sense of déjà vu for Santana. For a while there she'd thought all that nonsense had stopped for good.

Not wanting to entertain anymore of those thoughts, the ones that only ever led to more questions anyways, Santana runs her hands up and down Quinn's sides, not to cop a feel, just to feel her. After being on the outs with her for weeks, Santana has since learned to cherish every touch.

And every kiss.

While her lips brush across the blonde's cheek, then down the side of her jaw, her fingers push her hair over to one side. She can hear Quinn's breath catch in her throat as she begins pressing slow open mouthed kisses on her neck, focusing in particular on the blemished patch that doubled as her sweet spot.

"Santana." Quinn whimpers, her hand dropping from her neck to clasp her shoulder.

Santana lightly runs her nose up and down the column of her neck. "I'll be gentle." she promises.

Quinn's grip on her shoulders tightens when she starts gently sucking on the sensitive skin. "Santana." she warns, sounding the tiniest bit torn between stopping her and allowing her to continue.

"What? I'm being good."

Quinn shakes her head. "You're going to make it worse." she disagrees.

"I'm not even using my teeth."

"Doesn't matter." Santana leans forward while Quinn tries to pull away, her lips not done quite yet. "You'll end up marking me anyway. And I have more than enough hickeys right now, thank you very much."

Santana rolls her eyes. "You have _one_ hickey."

"Two hickeys, same spot." Quinn corrects.

And okay that was true. She'd given her a new hickey right over her old one, which hadn't even fully healed yet. Needless to say Quinn wasn't too appreciative that she'd have to start the healing process all over again. "If you don't knock it off I'll be forced to wear scarves through summer."

"One: you're being dramatic. And two: there's such a thing as cover-up foundation."

Santana pounces on Quinn slightly, making her fall backward on the bed with a soft squeak.

Hovering on top of her, she keeps her weight balanced on her hands and knees, while her lips tease hers. She thoroughly enjoys the way Quinn squirms beneath her in frustration.

"You're awful human being." Quinn mumbles, having failed at getting a proper kiss from her.

"Don't act like you don't like this." she grins wickedly.

Ignoring her cheeky smile, Quinn's gaze drops down and she frowns suddenly in concern. "Hey, what happened here?"

"What?" Santana follows her gaze just as she reaches out and lightly tugs on the collar of her t-shirt.

"Your skin's all red." Quinn comments, pushing herself upright and gesturing to the irritated area under her necklace. "It looks like you've got a rash."

"It's just been a little itchy today." she waves off, honestly thinking nothing of it, though wishing Quinn hadn't mentioned it because now she felt the annoying tickle again.

She can't help but scratch herself a little.

"San, stop!"

"It's not my fault." she grumbles, glaring at the blonde when she pushes her hand away. "You're the one who brought it up."

"It kind of looks like an allergic reaction." Quinn says upon closer inspection. "Did you eat anything out of the ordinary tonight?"

"What? No."

Santana watches in confusion as Quinn stares at her necklace, apparently deep in thought. "San, are you allergic to silver by any chance?"

"Allergic to silver?" she snorts. "What am I, the Wolfman?"

"You should get that checked out."

"It's nothing." she stresses. "If anything your damn dog gave me fleas. Hey!" Santana cries out indignantly when Quinn takes off her necklace.

"Let's just not wear this for a while." she says, turning around and setting the piece of jewelry on her nightstand. "See if you're still red and itchy in the morning. Do you want to put something on it? I might have some anti-itch lotion."

"I don't need no lotion. And speaking of necklaces," Santana scowls, wanting to get off topic. "Tomorrow we're going shopping. Gonna find you some dope ass bling of your own."

Quinn looks back at her and shakes her head. "Santana, no. You gave me _more than enough_ presents today. If fact you really didn't need to get me anything at all."

Santana rolls her eyes. People always say that, but... "Yeah, right. You would've been so pissed if I had showed up without a damn thing for you on Christmas morning."

"No, I wouldn't." Quinn smiles lightly, disagreeing. "You are all the Christmas present I could have ever asked for and wanted."

Santana would be lying if she said those words didn't make her insides dance happily. But even she had to admit that was some cheesy dialogue, like something out of a lame Hallmark Christmas movie.

Fortunately Quinn was so damn cute she could get away with it.

"You laugh but I'm serious."

Santana narrows her eyes skeptically. "So you're saying I could have showed up with absolutely no presents for you whatsoever, just have brought myself with a bow wrapped around my neck and you would've been totally fine with it?"

"As long as I get to keep you, yeah." Quinn nods, her eyes soft.

Licking her lips, Santana leans in and captures Quinn's lips in a lingering kiss. As lame as it sounded, she just couldn't resist her sweet words.

"I really missed you, you know." the blonde whispers against her mouth, her warm breath tickling Santana's skin, making her shiver.

Santana closes her eyes and hums in response.

It's only been three days since they reconciled but it still feels like they can't convey that enough to each other.

Opening her eyes, she allows a cocky smile to spread across her features. "Any sane person would." she teases. She lightly bumps her nose against hers. "And I missed you too." she adds more seriously, wanting her to know that.

Quinn, holding her gaze, gently pushes her backward. Their lips reattach before her back hits the pillows.

Santana immediately wraps her arms around her, intent on keeping her body firmly pressed against hers, and returns the kiss languidly, completely unhurried. She would have been content to keep the embrace going until she passed out but, of course, her body can't even give herself another minute before an embarrassingly tired yawn escapes her. Luckily she's able to pull away and turn her head before giving Quinn an up close and personal view of her tonsils.

"I think it's someone's bedtime." Quinn laughs, shifting out of her arms.

Santana, as much as she wanted to make out, wasn't gonna argue with her on that. She could totally do with some zzz's right about now.

While Quinn turns off the lights, Santana slips under the covers with a small sigh. She's well on her way to dreamland when she feels Quinn join her.

And then totally try and spoon her.

Santana's eyes fly open in the darkness. "Oh no, nope. Santana Lopez ain't no little spoon." she says, quickly turning over on her other side to face the sneaky blonde. "Roll over." she demands, poking her shoulder.

Quinn rolls her eyes but acquiesces, knowing they'd just go back and forth arguing if she didn't. "Cuddle monster." she murmurs under her breath.

"This is so _not _cuddling." she scowls, meanwhile pulling Quinn's body flush against her front. "This is sleeping closely for safety reasons. Should a fire break out I'mma need to crawl over your ass as fast as I can."

"Then why not just sleep closer to the window?"

"And potentially roll off the bed in my sleep?" she scoffs. "I don't think so."

"Your logic or lack thereof baffles me."

Santana drops a kiss to her shoulder, smiling in spite of herself. "Night, snowflake."

Receiving nothing in response, she closes her eyes and shifts her position a little so she could nuzzle the crook of the blonde's neck.

"Santana?"

"Hmm?"

"We're..." Santana lifts her head when she hears Quinn hesitate and feel her body tense up. "We're gonna be okay, right?"

"What do you mean?"

Quinn shifts around in her arms to face her but doesn't look directly at her directly at first.

"When we go back to school...even though we have to be a secret...we can handle it, right?"

Uncertain hazel eyes pull up to meet her gaze, and something inside Santana aches. She nods slowly, confirming, "Yeah. We'll make it work."

—

The little bell above the door chimes as they exit the local ice cream shop, Any Given Sundae.

Ice cream in freezing cold January sounds like a ridiculous idea, which is probably why they're the shop's only customers so far today, but glee practice had left them all a little overheated (booty camp was no joke) and in need of a refreshing treat.

"Sometimes I really don't get Mr. Schue." Santana was saying while keeping the door propped open for Quinn and Brittany. They were trying to find the rationale behind Mr. Schuester's latest obsession - getting them to learn and master these ridiculous dance moves.

(Today's - the widowmaker, aka the 'hardest show choir move ever').

"Like, seriously what the fuck? What's he trying to prepare us for anyways? It's not like we perform anywhere outside of the choir room. Okay, yeah there's the auditorium, but we don't compete."

Of course not, Quinn thinks. Competitions would require them to leave town and for some unknown reason that never happens.

"I think he's been watching one too many episodes of Dance Moms." Brittany suggests, taking a bite out of her scoop of rainbow sherbet.

Santana just shakes her head. "He needs a wife."

Quinn tucks the handful of napkins she brought with them into her purse. "I think he has one." she says, though her brow furrows a little in uncertainty.

"Fine, he needs a prostitute then." Santana amends, making both her and Brittany laugh.

The three of them proceed to walk idly around town. None of them really want to go home where homework and chores await and since Santana has some time to kill before work started they hang around the stores enjoying their ice creams.

In the midst of their window-shopping fun, Quinn feels a pair of eyes on her. Looking over, she sees that, sure enough, Santana was staring not at the candy store window but at her, watching her eat her ice cream like she didn't know what.

Something which automatically gave Quinn reason for concern. Did she have ice cream on her face? A zit? An obvious booger hanging around in her nose?

Even though she can't feel anything on her face - or in her nose for that matter - she turns her head quickly, the embarrassment having already set in and colored her cheeks. She tries to refocus her attention elsewhere and finish her mint chocolate chip like a normal person but she can still feel Santana's prolonged gaze, making her feel extremely self-conscious.

It gets to the point where it distracts her so much that when she leans forward to take a bite of her ice cream, she doesn't even realize that, at the same time, her own hand was lifting the ice cream cone toward her.

How that even happens she doesn't know.

But it ends with her getting a face full of ice cream, _that_ she knows for certain.

Startled by the contact to say the very least, she drops her cone where it lands on the ground by her feet.

Not that she cared about that. She was too mortified by the fact she just pushed her ice cream into her own face in front of her...her...well, _Santana_.

God. If there ever was a time for the earth to open and swallow her whole, now would be it.

Beside her Santana's laughing that normally sweet but right now really unwanted laugh of hers, pulling the spare napkins out of her purse while Brittany's bending down to retrieve the fallen cone, equally amused.

Quinn could definitely feel her ears burning. If only she could say moments like this didn't often happen. Well, maybe not the ice cream part, but the making a fool out of herself part, definitely.

Around Santana, proper brain function was all but nonexistent.

While Brittany goes to find a trash can, Santana begins carefully cleaning off her nose and upper lip with a napkin.

"You are too damn cute for your own good, snowflake." she murmurs fondly, lightly shaking her head.

Quinn pouts her lips crossly in response to Santana's wide grin, feeling anything _but_ cute. "Why were you staring at me?"

Santana shrugs. "What can I say," She wipes the last speck of ice cream off her face and proceeds to suck the chocolate off her thumb in the most intentionally teasing way. "You make ice cream look so damn _scrumptious_."

Quinn swallows hard. The way she says 'scrumptious' made her feel things. Warm things.

Oh boy.

If it was possible her face just got even redder.

Of course once Santana notices, her smile doubles in size - to dimple proportions - because red and embarrassed Quinn just happens to be a favorite of hers.

Quinn really wishes she could kiss that damn smirk right off her lips.

"Do you wanna go back and get another cone, Quinn?" Brittany asks when she returns. "I'm sure Mrs. Weston won't charge you."

Quinn shakes her head, still looking at, and blushing under, Santana's smiling gaze. "No, I'm good, Britt."

She's pretty sure she wouldn't be able to get through eating another cone without accidentally mashing her face into it again. Especially if she knew Santana was watching her.

"You can have some of mine." Santana offers, extending her cone of double scoop rocky road to her.

"I think for both our sakes I better not." Quinn politely declines, however tempting. She does love chocolate.

"You're probably right." Santana retracts her arm, then says, all too casually, "If I see your tongue take another lick of ice cream, I may just pounce on you."

As she says this Santana flattens her tongue against her ice cream and takes a long, deliberate lick of it.

For a second there Quinn might've stopped breathing.

_You and me both_, _Santana_, she thinks faintly. _You and me both_.

"Santana, stop being a tease." An indignant cry escapes the Latina as Brittany pinches her arm. "You're gonna make Quinn pass out."

"Perfect." Santana smiles and wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. "It'll give me an excuse to give her CPR right here and now."

Quinn inhales quickly at her words. Then, after taking in the Latina's crooked grin, huffs a little in indignation. Because really Santana got way too much enjoyment out of her getting all flustered and breathless.

Which is why she really needed to learn how to build up some kind of an immunity to her teasing.

Anyways.

Continuing with their stroll, the subject thankfully changes to something else and Quinn's embarrassing moment isn't brought up again (for the time being, at least).

It isn't long before they exhaust all the stores the town has to offer, which leaves them in need of something else to do. Unsurprisingly Brittany - ever the problem solver - comes up with a plan almost instantly, and before they know know it, their blonde kid at heart is leading them toward the park.

Few people are there at this time of day, probably due to the cold, and the playground is completely deserted, much to Brittany's delight. While she skips over to the monkey bars - her absolute favorite - Quinn follows Santana up the jungle gym and together they settle down with their legs dangling off the edge, content to just watch their friend play Olympic gymnast.

"Careful, B." Santana warns as Brittany turns herself upside down, her lumberjack hat falling to the ground in the process. "You better right yourself otherwise you'll be upchucking that rainbow sherbet."

Though clearly disgruntled, Brittany heeds her warning and with a dramatic sigh pulls herself right side up.

As they sit with their hands resting side by side, Quinn resists the urge to actually place her hand on top of Santana's and interlock their fingers together. Even though they were alone out here she'd rather not risk it.

Of course this was one of the downsides to being secret lovers.

No touching in public.

No pecks on the cheek or holding hands or stealing kisses whenever they felt like it.

Considering they'd spent most of their winter break holed up in her apartment, free from the restrictions that came with dealing with the outside world, it wasn't easy going from that to spending eight hours together at school under the same roof five days a week with no physical contact whatsoever.

Granted they more than made up for the lack of contact when they're alone but still, it would be nice...

_One day_, Quinn sighs.

Hopefully.

Quinn's thoughts are interrupted when she feels Santana's head lean toward, then ultimately rest against, her shoulder. Her whole body seizes. Both from the suddenness and the fact that they were out in the open where people could happen upon them at any moment.

But after glancing down at the brunette and seeing absolutely no concern there, she relaxes, rationalizing that this type of contact was okay. Normal. Friends could do this and get away with it without giving anyone, should they be around, any ideas.

Breathing a little easier, Quinn smiles to herself and soaks up every second like a happy little sponge.

No words are spoken for a while, and it's a comfortable silence, accompanied by Brittany's light humming. Quinn loves moments like these where she doesn't have to think about something to say, where she doesn't have to worry about anything. Where she can simply just be.

It's a wonderful feeling.

She's not sure how long they sit there, enjoying the late afternoon quiet, but it must be a while - long enough for Santana to get antsy and shift her position. Quinn doesn't mind it when she hops down her spot - especially when she flashes her a mega cute smile before doing so - but what concerns her is what will inevitably happen after. A bored Santana equals mischief. Then add in Brittany, who by the looks of it was also in need of some new entertainment, and you get double the trouble.

(Idle hands are the devil's playthings, after all.)

And sure enough, before Quinn knows it, the words "I bet you can't..." are being uttered and that's all, brother.

A competition of sorts breaks out between her two friends and for the first time she wishes there was some nearby adult, or better yet police officer, to stop the shenanigans. Because really, jumping and back-flipping off of the jungle gym was just a disaster waiting to happen.

But do they listen? Of course not.

They were having too much fun trying to out-do each other to pay her concerns any attention, let alone end their awful game of 'let's see who can give Quinn a heart attack first'.

Now she could have easily threatened to never kiss, or allow Santana to sleep over at her place ever again - and that might have worked - but she wasn't about to yell that out into the open for all the world to hear.

Instead she had to go a different route. She tried distracting them - of course only when they were both safely on the ground - by instigating a snowball fight and that worked for a hot minute (a fact she was very proud of...up until she found herself being chased and pelted). But then Santana got one too many snowballs down the back of her shirt and she was done.

Though she'd been having fun, Quinn's grateful when Brittany suggests they go hang out on the swings, thinking her heart could rest easy, but the feeling is short lived when the new game becomes 'let's so who can jump off the swings and land the farthest'.

They couldn't just sit and swing like normal people, could they?

"Ow, fuck!"

Fortunately for them, she had band-aids handy.

"What the hell ever happened to goddamn mother fucking sandboxes anyways?" Santana growls a few minutes after using her hands to break her not so awesome landing, and kicks at the woodchips that filled the playground. "Sand doesn't stab you in the hand!"

Quinn barely restrains a smile as she peers down and examines the brunette's open palm. Aside from a little dirt and redness she was totally fine, in spite of what she thought...

"Did that shit go through? It did, didn't it?" Santana shakes her head and takes her hand back, inspecting it for herself. "I am so gonna sue."

"Santana, you're fine." she sighs. "No splinters. No scrapes—"

"Then what the fuck do you call this?" Santana holds out her hand right in front of Quinn's nose and points to a tiny red dot that could possibly be construed as a puncture mark. "I demand you band-aid this shit up, snowflake."

Quinn lifts her gaze, her brow raised skeptically. "Really, Santana?"

Santana stares at her incredulously. "If this remains untreated it will ultimately get infected, then I will die, and you will lose your favorite person. Is that what you want?"

Quinn resists the urge to roll her eyes.

_She is so dramatic_.

But, of course, in the most endearing way.

"Of course not." she says, breathing a sigh. "Though I don't see how your death equates to my losing Brittany."

Santana's expression narrows while Brittany laughs out loud. "She is so not your favorite." she challenges, her feathers obviously ruffled.

"Our blonde bond is unbreakable." Brittany confirms, taking off her lumberjack hat and setting it on unsuspecting Quinn's head, pulling the ear flaps down over her ears. After, she drapes a casual arm around Quinn's shoulders. "Sorry, S."

"It's not your fault, Santana." Quinn chuckles, pushing the hat up just a tad so she can see out from under it. "You just can't compete with blondes."

"This is some Nazi Hitler Blonde supremacy shit." Santana folds her arms across her chest grumpily. "No me gusta."

"Hey," Brittany turns her head, realizing suddenly, "Isn't it about time you left for work?"

Santana's eyes widen. "Oh, _fuck_." Her gaze flickers down, as if to check the time but since she's never worn a watch in her life, there's nothing there.

"Shit. I gotta go." she says quickly, suddenly in a scramble for her things. "My abuela will have my ass if I'm late again."

Something which has been happening a lot lately - and Quinn was partly to blame. Whoops.

"Bye, Britt. Bye, Q."

Before she can think to return the sentiment, Quinn receives a departing kiss from the brunette that completely catches her off-guard.

It's a simple peck sure, but still very much a kiss, and a public one at that. Which is why she's left standing there, stunned, while Santana hightails it across town, swearing all along the way.

When Quinn finally recovers from the momentary shock, her head swivels back to Brittany, her eyes frantic. "No one saw that, right?"

"Relax, Q." Brittany says, slightly chuckling, watching her head whip around like a scared bird. "There's no one around. Not that it'd matter if there were, that kiss was a 'blink and you'll miss it' kind of a deal. I don't even think Santana realized what she did. It'll probably hit her halfway to the restaurant though."

With a shake of her head, Brittany grabs her school bag off the park bench.

"We should probably get going too. I've got homework to half-ass my way through." Quinn's too preoccupied searching the park for any potential eye-witnesses to notice the other blonde drop down in front of her. "C'mon, I'll give you a lift."

Quinn gives a small shriek when she feels her legs suddenly being picked off the ground. She fumbles forward and lands smack against Brittany's back right as the blonde rises up to her full height, her hands holding the underside of Quinn's knees.

"You could warn a girl before you do that, Britt." she huffs, clinging to the girl's neck and shoulders like a child.

Brittany looks back at her over her shoulder and rolls her eyes. "I just said I was gonna give you a lift. Not my fault your ears don't work."

Quinn rolls her eyes and grudgingly allows Brittany to continue giving her a piggy back ride - it's not like she'd be able to get out of it even if she wanted to.

Something's she's learned when it comes to Brittany: it was always easier just to not put up a fight.

"Are you sure I'm not too heavy?" She's pretty sure she asks this every time Brittany pulls a stunt like this but she can't help but feel guilty. (These are the times she wished bacon wasn't such a large part of her diet).

"You're a beanpole, Quinn. Just like Santana." Brittany sighs. "So relax and enjoy the free transportation before I change my mind and deposit you in the nearest trashcan."

Quinn smiles faintly. She tries to do just that but wishes of being able to do this with Santana fill her head. They could probably get away with it, she knows, on some level - if she and Brittany could do it and not have a single person spare second glance, but then again if she were in this position with Santana, she might not be able to resist the temptation of having her so close. Or keep herself from smiling like an idiot.

As they walk - or rather, as Brittany walks - Quinn's thoughts wander back to something that's been on her mind lately. "Hey, Britt, can I ask you a question?"

"You just did." Brittany responds cheekily. "But okay, shoot."

"Those paintings you gave me for Christmas." she starts. "You just came up with them on your own? You didn't use any references?"

"For all I know they were pure imagination." Brittany shakes her head. "Straight out of these dreams I've been having. Funny thing, those castles both felt like they were places I've been too before." She turns her head questioningly. "Why?"

"They're familiar to me too." she admits. It was the reason she was bringing them up in the first place. "Really familiar. And I just thought, maybe, I don't know, that you'd gotten the pictures out of a school textbook or something..."

"You know all these weird dreams we've been having?" Quinn nods. "I think I've figured out what the deal with them is."

"Oh?"

Brittany nods. "I've been doing some research and I think they're memories of a past life."

"So, like, reincarnation?" Quinn answers skeptically. She wasn't sure she believed in that kind of stuff, but she would hear her friend out.

"According to one of the websites I looked into, there are like eight signs that show you've had a past life or lived multiple lives." Brittany says. "One of the signs is frequent déjà vu experiences. You say you get those a lot."

Quinn concedes to a nod, though wary of this website's credibility or lack thereof. "That I do. Go on."

"Recurring dreams and/or nightmares." They share a knowing look. Been there, had that. "Another sign is unexplained fears and phobias." Brittany continues. "You're claustrophobic aren't you?"

"Yeah, kind of." she admits.

Brittany looks over at her curiously. "Do you remember when it started? How it started?"

Quinn shakes her head. Every time she tried to think back on it, all that came to mind was this large white door with floral patterns painted on it coupled with this strong feeling of confinement.

"Well some people think fears like that were carried over from previous lifetimes. But then again," Brittany shrugs. "Maybe you got shoved in the closet against your will when you were a kid and you just blocked it out or something."

"Or something." she agrees, her chin resting against the taller blonde's shoulder. "What's another sign?"

"Having an affinity for foreign culture."

Quinn slowly shakes her head. "I don't think I have that." she says, her brow scrunched. "Or at least, not in regards to a specific one." All cultures fascinated and intrigued her really.

"But you do have an affinity for snowflakes." Brittany points out.

"Are you saying I was a snowflake in another life?" she laughs.

Brittany shakes her head, laughing too. "No, but you could have been someone who worked around snow. Having a strong interest, or passion, in something could be a connection to your past life. Like me, maybe I was a famous artist in another life. But you, you said you might want to go into architecture at college because you love designing things and you're great at geometry and all those angles and stuff. Put that together with your love of snow...maybe you were an ice sculptureer -er, sculptress - back in the day. Maybe you competed in ice castle competitions."

At that, Quinn automatically thinks of the ice castle painting hanging on her bedroom wall and the odd sense of homesickness she got every time she looked at it. "Or better yet, maybe I lived in an ice castle." she says jokingly.

"Maybe." Brittany chuckles. "Uncontrolled habits are another one."

Quinn shakes her head to herself, barely concealing a smile. _Who came up with this stuff?_ She might just have to look into this website for herself.

"I don't have any uncontrolled habits."

"You play with your hands a lot when you're uncomfortable." Brittany mentions, looking back at her briefly. "Depending on how bad it is, sometimes it's just a brief touch, other times you really wring them."

Quinn frowns uncomfortably. She didn't realize she did that enough for it to be considered a _thing_.

"What about inexplicable pains?" Brittany asks, stopping when they reach the corner of the intersection and waiting to proceed. "Those could be reflections of suffering you endured in a previous existence."

"I don't think so."

Although sometimes when she's stressed, she notices that her hands do ache.

"The same goes for birthmarks." Brittany says. "I read that there was once this Indian boy with all these birthmarks on his chest who recalled being killed by a shotgun blast to the chest and the two added up. Weird, huh?"

"Yes, but I don't have any birthmarks."

Thank God.

"But plenty of love bites." Brittany snickers, stealing a sidelong glance at her over her shoulder.

Quinn could feel her face burn red.

Maybe Santana was a dog in another life. It would certainly explain the subconscious need she has to use her neck to mark her territory every chance she gets.

If she kept it up at this rate Quinn was gonna have to start buying cover-up in bulk.

"She's like a vacuum cleaner with teeth." Quinn mumbles grumpily.

"Maybe she was a vacuum cleaner in another life." Brittany offers jokingly.

"Inanimate objects don't have souls, Britt."

Brittany looks over her shoulder and scoffs. "You've clearly never seen _The Brave Little Toaster _or_ Toy Story_."

Quinn smiles faintly. "You've really thought about this a lot." she remarks. "About past lives, I mean."

"Yeah, well, you're not the only one trying to find answers."

"Well it's an interesting theory, Britt." she sighs, looking up. Her eyes find the clock tower that seemed to finally be working again. "Too bad there's no way to actually prove it."

"Maybe. Maybe not." Brittany shrugs. "I'm working on it though."

—

For the most part Quinn liked her job. She dealt with animals more so than with actual people, which she liked (animals didn't make her anxious), but still got enough human contact out of the deal so that her people skills were improving - slowly, but surely - without it being too overwhelming.

But on days like this she seriously reconsidered her decision to get out into the world more.

It'd all started when some guy from school came in looking to adopt, wanting to get his girlfriend a dog for their five month anniversary and while she'd shown him his options, he couldn't stop going on about how wonderful his girl is and, though Quinn didn't ask, told her in great detail his plans for their big night while simultaneously talking her through what he did for all their previous anniversaries: the fourth month anniversary, the third month anniversary, and so forth.

To say she was surprised would be saying the least.

Were monthly anniversaries really a thing?

Was that the norm and she just never realized it? (Though how could she? Before Santana, the idea of dating never even crossed her mind, and she didn't exactly have friends to clue her in on that kind of stuff).

Either way she was too shy to ask a complete stranger what the protocol was and let him go with a very happy chocolate lab in tow.

It wasn't until the door closed behind him that it hit her.

She'd been with Santana for exactly one month.

When this realization comes to her, panic like no other sets in. Did that mean Santana expected something special?

(If she did though, wouldn't she have dropped some kind of hint?)

Maybe she thought she didn't have to.

Maybe she didn't care.

Maybe this was one of those things where Santana secretly _did_ care but didn't want anyone to know about it.

Whatever the true answer was, Quinn knew she couldn't drop the ball and potentially screw things up with Santana.

Ever since the day at the park where Santana had been innocently kissed her goodbye, it was obvious that the secretive nature of their relationship was stressing Santana out. Not that Quinn blamed her, acting platonic around each other in public was not easy and definitely took effort.

Okay, _a lot _of effort (depending on how the day was going).

Still, in spite of all this, she didn't want to bring it up knowing the only way things could change involved a talk with Santana's grandma, which wasn't going to happen. And if Quinn couldn't offer a solution for their current situation, she feared mentioning it might lead to some kind of fight that ends with Santana breaking things off with her either: to spare her feelings or because she realized she wasn't who she wanted after all.

(Now Quinn was well aware it was her insecurities that had her coming to these conclusions but it wasn't unreasonable to feel this way, she doesn't think. People fall in and out of lo..._like_ all the time. Especially teenagers.)

Sure Santana's into her now but that could easily change.

Especially if more guitar playing, tattoo bearing, lesbian loving girls keep worming their way into her life.

Though the girl was a friend, and therefore frequent fixture in Santana's life, Quinn has yet to meet the famous Dani. (And part of her really didn't want to - or rather is scared to; she'd rather not have her fears confirmed).

Santana was entitled to have other friends, she understood that, she just wished those friends weren't kickass rocker chicks who could do just about _everything._

Seriously. How could she compete with that?

As it was she couldn't figure out what Santana saw in someone who really paled in comparison (both literally and figuratively) to her ridiculously smart, talented, witty, drop dead gorgeous, sexy as hell, sweet wonderful self.

But now, in addition to that conundrum, Quinn was left wondering why Santana would be with her when she could easily be with someone who sounded like the coolest girl on the planet?

Even Brittany liked her, for crying out loud. And yes, she knows that if Dani No-Name had _Brittany's_ approval meant she was truly nonthreatening to her relationship with Santana (Brittany would be up in arms otherwise) and therefore she should be resting easy.

But of course that wasn't the case.

Especially now. Resting easy was so far from her current state that, that—

Quinn lets out a frustrated groan and stares hopelessly at the mess she had spread out across her dining table.

Initially she had wanted to get Santana flowers for their anniversary - because flowers, romantic gesture, right? - but after making a trip to the local flower shop and being thoroughly overwhelmed by the selection and the owner (however well meaning she was), she ended up walking out of there empty-handed.

_When words are too difficult to say, say it with flowers!, _the sign behind the counter had said.

Too bad they didn't have flowers that said, 'I really really like you and you make my heart palpitate in concerning ways' because those were the flowers she needed.

It wasn't until she scoured Pinterest for ideas that she settled on making Santana a bouquet of beautiful paper flowers instead. Since she didn't even know if Santana liked real flowers or what her favorite ones were (she'd tried calling Brittany for info but she wasn't answering - probably misplaced her phone again - and since she couldn't very well ask Santana herself...) she figured paper ones would be a good alternative.

Or at least that's what she convinced herself of as she had no clue what to get Santana otherwise.

Which was why she was sitting here at her dining table in middle of the night - er, early morning probably; she hasn't checked in a while - making terrible flower after terrible flower for the past who knows how many hours.

Quinn stares at her latest attempt, grimacing. It was a drastic improvement from her first try but still a far cry from the intended image reflected on her computer screen.

She still had a long way to go before these flowers were 'Santana worthy perfection'.

"Easy tutorials my ass." she mutters, discarding the red flower without a second glance.

She covers her face with a sigh. She had a major headache.

What ever made her think she could do this?

Quinn looks over at Marshmallow, as if he could provide an answer for her, but he was passed out on the floor at her feet, snoozing away like she wishes she was.

Whatever.

She was too far into it now; quitting was out of the question (not that she would ever entertain such an idea). Besides, these flowers were for Santana.

And Santana was worth it.

—

The next day Santana finds herself sitting down on some rickety as shit, liable to fall apart the second you bend down, wooden 'bleachers'. They're hanging out in an open warehouse by the docks used by Dani's roller derby team.

Said blonde was sitting next to her, doodling into a beat up composition book, listening while she vented her frustrations.

Secret relationships, as it turned out, sucked. Having to pretend to she was just friends with Quinn in public was rougher than she imagined and, depending on the day, it felt like she was going crazy because of it.

Was she being dramatic? Maybe.

But she couldn't have anticipated how self-conscious it would make her. Seriously. She literally has to pay attention to how close she stands next to Quinn now, make sure she doesn't stare at her too long or laugh too loud at anything she says.

Fuck she even has to keep her smiling in check thanks to Mercedes who, not long after they returned to school, teased her about how smiley she suddenly was because of Quinn. Which admittedly made her super paranoid because if Mercedes noticed, who's to say other people didn't notice too? - and if other people start to notice, they might put two and two together, and on the way down the slippery slope they go to everyone finding out.

Needless to say Santana wasn't exactly, well she didn't necessarily—

"You're unhappy."

"Not because of Quinn." she makes clear, her voice maybe rising defensively.

And she wasn't exactly unhappy, per se, just frustrated.

Dani looks up from her notebook, amused by her quick reaction, before clarifying, "Because of the situation."

Santana just nods.

"So do something about the situation." Dani sums up easily enough.

"How can I?"

"You could start by talking to your grandma." Dani says, raising her shoulders. "You said it yourself she's the only reason you're hanging out in the closet still. Maybe now's the time..."

"No way. That vieja will burn me like a witch if I tell her."

Dani sighs empathetically. "Look, Santana, my parents were actually kind of D-bags. They caught me making out with a girl in the basement and all hell broke loose—"

"And you grabbed your guitar and never looked back." Santana recites knowingly, rolling her eyes just a little. "Yeah I know." she sighs. "But I'm not like you. I can't do that."

Unlike Dani, she was still in school. And though she knows she liked to talk a big game about being able to take care of herself, she still depended on her abuela for a lot.

"Would it really be the end of the world if you just told her? Maybe you're just looking too much into this. Maybe she'd be a little more understanding."

"It'd be the end of my world, so yeah." she confirms dejectedly. Her grandmother was all the family she had. The person who made her who she is today, who raised her like a daughter. The one she's looked up to her whole life. The prospect of being forsaken by her was beyond terrifying.

As much as she wanted the freedom to be who she was, she just couldn't give up her abuela like that.

"Well I don't know what to tell you, Santana." Dani sighs. "Unless you talk to your grandma, nothing can change. You're just gonna have to deal with this crappy, no-win situation you're in."

Santana just nods, figuring as much. It was nothing Brittany hadn't already told her. But she'd still hoped Dani, who's been a good friend to her ever since Neverland, might have had some magical solution they hadn't thought of.

For a while she ponders her thoughts in silence, watching as Brittany mingled with the other derby girls down by the rink.

"Am I being selfish?"

Dani frowns.

"What do you mean?"

"My choices don't just affect me. They affect Quinn too." she explains. "And I just hate that I'm doing this to her, you know? She deserves more than being treated like a dirty little secret."

"This secrecy thing isn't just some bombshell you suddenly dropped on her." Dani gently reminds. "She knew what she was getting into."

"That doesn't mean it's fair to her."

"It's her choice." Dani shrugs. "If she couldn't handle it she'd just back out and dump your skinny ass." Santana smiles in spite of herself. "And you don't treat her like a dirty little secret. You're a bitch in all other aspects but not when it comes to your _snowflake_." she teases, nudging her arm.

"I'm beginning to regret ever telling you I called her that."

"In your defense you did it while you were drunk." Dani chuckles.

Santana shakes her head, and Dani reverts back to the real subject of their conversation. "You should talk this out with Quinn. See where she is about this. Communication is key with any relationship, Oprah taught me that."

Santana snorts. "Yeah, I know. I just don't want her to think I'm like doubting us or her anything."

"Santana, all you are is concerned about her." Dani says, clasping her shoulder. "You're not all that happy with your situation so you're immediately jumping to the conclusion that she isn't too. She might be fine with all this, she might just be like you, worried you're unhappy. Either way you gotta talk it out. That way you'll know for sure if you two are as committed to making the relationship work as you think you are or not. If one of you happens to not be able to handle the sneaking around, it's better to tell each other now before someone starts resenting them and things get all kinds of unpleasant."

"Yeah."

She's just worried that bringing all this up will lead to some kind of rift between her and Quinn.

"Hey." Dani stares at her pointedly. "Just talk to her. Remember what happened last time? You guys weren't honest with each other about how you felt and you guys didn't talk for weeks. I'm rooting for you guys, so don't fuck it up." she says, lifting her notebook in warning. "I don't want this song I'm writing about you two to turn into some angsty sad breakup song. I've got enough of those already in my back pocket thanks."

Santana looks back at her and frowns deeply. "What do you mean you're writing a song about us?"

She immediately snatches the book out of her hand and reads a loud a line. "_Quinn and Santana, two girls and no banana.._."

Santana looks up to see the dyed blonde doing a crap ass job of restraining her laughter.

"You're a fucking poet." she mocks, her expression deadpanned.

"I try." Dani laughs, shrugging away when Santana smacks her. She takes back her notebook. "Say what's your girl's last name?"

"Fabray." Santana's brow furrows. "Why?"

Dani looks up at her and blinks. "So you're telling me you're _gay for Fabray? _Well, shit." She breaks into a grin and eagerly scribbles down the name. "This stuff writes itself."

Dani cackles a throaty laugh when Santana smacks her again.

"Hey Dani, are you skating or what?" calls a loud, impatient derby girl from the middle of the rink.

"Yeah, I'm coming. Don't get your tubes all tied up." Dani yells back, waving her off, but standing nonetheless. She looks back at Santana, her head inclined to the side. "You sure you don't wanna join in on the fun? You get to hit people."

Santana shakes her head. "I hate skates." Plus she has a feeling she'd be a little too aggressive for the game, what with Snix and all.

"You sure?" Dani questions before starting down the bleachers, skates in hand. "You get cool nicknames and everything."

"Tiger Lily is not that cool!" Santana calls out after her.

Over her shoulder, Dani flips her the bird. "Whatever Snix!"

Santana scowls to herself and grudgingly steps down to meet Brittany who was walking over to her.

"Hey, B. Make new friends?"

"But of course." Brittany nods. "And then some." she smirks, an impish glint to her eyes.

"You player." she grins. The blonde was ever the social butterfly.

Brittany just shrugs, smiling cheekily. "I think I may become a derby groupie."

"Oh jeez." Santana laughs.

"So what'd you and Dani talk about?" Brittany wonders. "My awesome?"

Santana shakes her head. "Quinn."

Brittany nods in understanding. "You leaving?" she asks, noticing how Santana looked ready to go with purse in hand.

"Quinn's off at the shelter soon." she nods. Her lips curve in amusement as Brittany's gaze unwittingly draws back to the derby girls skating past - their short shorts were showing off a whole lotta leg.

Not that Santana blamed her, if she didn't have Quinn, she'd be distracted too.

"I take it you're gonna stay?" she smirks, bringing back Brittany's attention.

"Just for a little while."

"Okay. But if you do decide to put on some skates, just try not to land yourself in the hospital."

"Can't make any promises," Brittany laughs. "But I'll try."

Leaving it to her then, Santana departs with a quick wave to Dani and heads back into town. She was eager to see Quinn since they didn't really get a chance to hang out or talk much yesterday (she'd worked a double shift no thanks to her abuela). The only upside to it was she made some pretty good tips.

By the time she makes it to the animal shelter, Quinn's shift has ended and she was nearly ready to go.

Santana walks up to said cute blonde standing behind the counter. "Hey." she grins.

Quinn looks up and smiles in return. "Hi."

If they were a normal couple, they'd be kissing each other stupid right about now but since they can't do that, they're stuck exchanging pitiful 'I really wanna kiss you right now' smiles.

"You reek by the way." she comments, her nose scrunching up a little.

"Do you really have to mention that every time you see me?"

"Until you quit this crap job, yes." she confirms. "Now come on, I don't know about you but I'm starved."

Quinn nods in agreement, and ducks in back to say goodbye to the owner, before grabbing her things and following Santana outside.

Right away Santana notices the gauze-like bandage wrapped around her hand. "What the hell happened?" she demands, stopping the girl from taking another step further.

"It's fine." Quinn assures, sighing softly when Santana pulls her hand closer for better scrutiny. "It's just a little scratch."

Santana peers under her bandage and winces. "That is not a little scratch. That is like a near-death experience. Did you see Jesus?"

Quinn rolls her eyes but smiles in spite of herself. "It was bath day." she explains. "And you know cats and water do not mix. Lucifer decided to take his hatred out on me."

Santana pulls a face at the mention of that infamous shelter cat (the one that _surprisingly_ had trouble being adopted). "I have never met a cat I wanted to punch in the face more than that pig-snouted, beady-eyed, straight out of hell tub of lard." she says, straightening up and reluctantly letting go of Quinn's hand.

Seriously. He was given the name Lucifer for a reason.

Fucking cats, man. She hated them like twice as much as she hates dogs.

With the exceptions of the Tubbingtons, of course. They were alright, for you know, cats.

Assholes, but tolerable.

"C'mon," Quinn implores, starting them off again. "I already put in an order at Mercedes' place. Our food should be ready by now."

"Wait." Santana stops her with a frown and nods back to her hand. "Shouldn't we like take you to the hospital or something to get that looked at?"

"It's okay." Quinn waves off. "I cleaned it. It shouldn't get infected."

"But what if it does? What if you start turning into a cat?"

"Santana you watch too many movies."

"Fine. Don't pay me any attention. But if you start suddenly drinking your milk out of a saucer or start playing with a ball of yarn out of nowhere, don't come crying to me."

Quinn smiles.

"Will do."

After making a quick grab for their food - thankfully Mercedes wasn't around to tease and coo at them again - they continue on their way over toward Quinn's apartment. While they walk Santana can't help but pick up on the increasing nervous energy radiating from Quinn. It's unexpected and therefore confusing - after all what did Quinn have to be nervous about? - and Santana debates bringing it up. Quinn did once mention that she made her nervous (of course in a good way, if there was such a thing) so maybe it wasn't anything major but then again, what if...

Oh God. What if Quinn was planning on breaking up with her after dinner?

She could see it already.

_'Hey, sorry, Santana but this secret relationship isn't working for me. Bye!'_

Okay. Quinn definitely wouldn't put it so callously but still...

Wait. What is she thinking? Quinn isn't gonna break up with her. That's ridiculous. She's probably just, well she's not - there are a hundred perfectly reasonable explanations as to why she's nervous.

None of which include dumping her ass.

Right?

Right.

Before she knows it Santana's worried herself all the way inside Quinn's apartment and it isn't until Marshmallow's jumping at her feet that she finally snaps out of it.

"You okay?"

Santana blinks to find Quinn staring at her strangely, not sure if she should be amused or concerned by her dazed state.

She smiles briefly, nodding, "Yeah. Fine. Just, um, hungry."

Santana's not sure if Quinn believes her but thankfully the blonde doesn't push the questions. "I, uh, have something for you." she says instead, sounding a little unsure of herself.

Before Santana can ask for any further details - what could she possibly have for her? - Quinn disappears into her bedroom without another word.

Well, snowflake can't physically _hand_ me a break-up, she thinks, with some relief, as she sets their food down on the kitchen counter and begins unpacking it.

So that's a good sign, right?

Quinn comes out a moment later with her right hand tucked behind her back. Automatically Santana stops what she's doing and watches curiously as Quinn slowly approaches her. The blonde takes in a fortifying breath.

"You okay?"

She can't help but ask it; snowflake's cheeks were already pink.

"Here."

Quinn extends her hand, revealing a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Of _paper_ flowers, Santana realizes belatedly, after taking them in her hand. But they weren't like the cheap, construction paper kind elementary school kids made for Mother's Day.

No, this was some Martha Stewart sorcery shit.

Seriously. At first glance they actually looked real.

After staring at her gift for what felt like forever, she looks up at Quinn for clarification. "You made these? They're amazing!"

And fuck they even smelled like her too. She must have sprayed them with her perfume.

Quinn bites her lip against a smile and nods, her gaze dropping shyly. "Happy one month anniversary." she murmurs.

Santana stops and blinks.

_Happy one month__—?_

The words are spilling out of her mouth before she can stop it.

"Wait, that's a thing?"

—

"Wait, that's a thing?"

The deer in the headlights expression on Santana's face says it all, and Quinn's not sure if she should laugh, cry, or groan. She's not disappointed Santana didn't remember or rather know about it, but she does suddenly feel very, very stupid for freaking out over something she had absolutely no reason to.

"To be honest I didn't know either." she confesses quickly before Santana can say anything further. She felt she should explain herself first. "I, uh, wanted to get you real flowers. But the lady at the flower shop kept prattling on about the different meanings behind each flower - apparently there's a whole 'language of flowers' and that was a lot to take in and I kind of got overwhelmed. And I didn't know what your favorite flower was, if you even had one. How that's never come up in conversation is beyond me."

_Good god this was some major word vomit she was spouting_, she thinks from the back of her mind, cringing.

"And roses seemed like the obvious choice but the last thing I wanted was to scare you off with 'I love you' flowers because we obviously haven't gotten there, we've only been together a month..." she trails off, suddenly with the sense Santana wasn't listening to her. She definitely looked like she hadn't heard a word she said.

"Santana?"

And just like that Santana turns and runs out the door, taking her flowers with her.

—

Her feet are carrying her outside before she can even think twice about it.

One month anniversary?

What the fuck kind of nonsense is that?

Confused and panicked as fuck, Santana whips out her cell phone and with her free hand presses a number on her speed dial.

"Brittany!" she shouts when the blonde finally picks up.

_"Whose body do we have to hide?"_

Santana stops for split second, unsure if she heard right. "What?"

_"What? Never mind. What's with all the shouting?"_

"Did you know that it's mine and Quinn's one month anniversary today?" she demands, hurrying her way down the sidewalk.

_"I got several voice mails from a very freaked out sounding Quinn and granted she'd been rambling, I'm pretty sure I heard word anniversary thrown around a few times, so yeah, why?"_

Santana stops and scoffs her disbelief. "And you couldn't have told me about it?"

_"About your anniversary?" _She could hear the frown in the blonde's tone. _"I thought you knew. I assumed you were the one who dropped the bomb about it and that's why she was all freaked out."_

"Well I didn't!" she exclaims in frustration. "Honestly Brit, am I the type to remember anniversaries?"

_"I dunno, considering this is like your first real relationship - but you remember birthdays, don't you?"_

"God damnit, B." she says, throwing her head back and groaning mournfully. She was so screwed. "Where are you?"

_"Across the street, weirdo."_

Brow furrowing, Santana spins around until she catches a glimpse of the blonde waving at her from the other side of the street. With a roll of her eyes, she ends the call and speedily joins her at the corner.

"She made me flowers." she declares once she's right in front of the blonde, showing said bouquet in her hand. "Awesome, paper flowers because apparently she's like a Martha Stewart protege and I gotta get her something, or make her something, or...or..." Santana trails off with a shake of her head, unable to come up with a third option.

"Well I have plenty of art stuff at my house." Brittany offers calmly. "If you wanna make something."

"Britt, you know I'm not crafty." she sighs pitifully.

Brittany raises her brow. "Really, Santana? Have you met you? You're downright diabolical."

Santana rolls her eyes. "Not in _that_ way." she scowls, in no mood for jokes. "You know what I meant. C'mon." She grabs Brittany's wrist and begins tugging her along. "Quinn's gonna kick my ass if I don't come back with something for her."

"You do realize this is Quinn you're talking about, right?" Brittany reminds with a short laugh. "She doesn't care about gifts."

"Okay _I'll_ kick my ass." Santana amends. Cause really, not getting Quinn something on their anniversary would be seriously effed up of her. And besides she felt bad enough already that she couldn't wear the heart pendant Quinn got her for Christmas without breaking into a major rash.

(An allergy to silver? _Really?_ She still couldn't believe it. How was that even a thing?

Peanuts. Seafood. Gingers.

_Those_ are the real allergies for Christ's sake).

"Wait a second." Brittany stops abruptly, forcing Santana to reluctantly do the same. "Tell me you did not bolt after Quinn gave you her gift."

Santana drops her gaze uncomfortably, suddenly interested in her boots.

"Santana!"

She winces at the blonde's tone.

"Did you at least give her a reason before you took off?" Brittany groans.

"Kinda, sorta, not really..." she mumbles, daring to meet incredulous blue eyes before rising up defensively and saying, "You know what happens when I get freaked, Britt - I bolt! It's not my fault."

Brittany just rolls her eyes and whips her cell phone. Probably to do some damage control.

While her fingers move across her phone screen, tapping away, Santana gaze flits across town impatiently. "I need ideas, B." she breathes. "Stat."

Brittany pockets her phone and looks around with her. "How about..." She bites her lip in contemplation. Then exclaims out of the blue, "Penguin!"

"Say what now?"

Santana looks over her shoulder, not realizing they'd been standing a few feet away from the local arcade. "You can get her a penguin!" Brittany reiterates, snatching her by the jacket.

And just like that, they were off.

Brittany pulls her over to the claw machine filled with various stuffed animals and points out the grey baby penguin. "Penguins are like, the gayest birds of the animal kingdom." she informs.

_Gayer than peacocks?_ Santana thinks skeptically, before asking aloud, "So what, you want me to give that to her and be like 'hey, I'm gay for you, Quinn. Here's a penguin?'"

Brittany lightly smacks her arm for that sassy response. "Quinn likes penguins, dork."

"Yeah, cause they're like her people, hanging around in the snow, waddling and whatnot." But she's not sure a stuffed penguin, however cute, screams _Happy one month anniversary and sorry I didn't know about it!_

"It's at least something until we can find something better." Brittany reasons. "And you know she'll love anything _you_ give her. C'mon, you got to it admit it's adorable." she sighs, seeing the hesitance still. "It looks exactly like the one from Happy Feet."

Santana heaves a dramatic sigh. "Fine."

With a roll of her her eyes, she fishes a dollar out of her wallet and puts it into the machine.

Unsurprisingly it's a dollar wasted as the claw, though perfectly situated right above her intended prize, clamps down on air when it's lowered down.

"This game is rigged."

But Santana, not one to let a stupid piece of machinery make a fool out of her, has no plans of giving up just yet.

Nor does she have plans to feed any more of her hard earned money into it.

Peering around the arcade, she scopes out the snot-nosed brats hanging around until her gaze settles on a rather small boy playing some stupid zombie killing game. "Hey, kid!" she whispers, loud enough for him to hear but still quiet enough not to draw any attention.

The boy looks over quizzically. And when she beckons him closer, his brow furrows, unsure if this was the kind of situation he should run away from.

"You wanna make a quick five bucks?"

His curiosity peaked, the kid sets down his gun and walks over to her. "Sure."

"Cool." Santana nods her head to the side. "All you gotta do is climb up in this here machine and snatch me that penguin there."

His eyes widen as his head does a double take. "Are you nuts? I'm not climbing up in there!" he screeches, his voice climbing an octave.

"C'mon!" she scoffs, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "You won't get stuck. You're so small you're like a people mcnugget. You can get up there with ease!"

"I'll get in trouble." he protests.

"No, you won't. We'll cover you." she assures, trying honestly to sound sincere. "Make sure nothing bad happens, promise."

The little boy eyes her, then the machine again, skeptically. "I dunno..."

"Please?" she nearly whines. "I'm desperate."

_And I am so not against kicking a kid's ass_ _if necessary_, she mentally adds.

"Fine." he relents after a moment. "But I want _ten_ bucks."

_Ten bucks?_

As Mercedes would say, uh, HELL to the NO.

"Why you little sh—"

"Santana!" Brittany warns, sharply cutting her off. Her gaze drops back to the little boy. "You've got a deal."

"Brittany!" She rounds on her incredulously.

"It's for _Quinn_." she reminds pointedly, and of course that's all the prompting Santana needs to pull the two necessary fives out of her wallet.

God, she was so fucking whipped.

The second he sees the green paper bills, the kid tries to pluck it out of Brittany's hand but she's too fast for him and immediately raises the money out of his reach. "Penguin first." she stipulates, shaking her head.

The little boy rolls his eyes but acquiesces, grumbling unintelligibly under his breath.

"Let's make this quick." Santana murmurs, stepping forward along with Brittany to block people's view should they pass by. "No one's looking now. C'mon, in you go."

Santana gives him a little push - er, shove, maybe - in the rear to help him along.

"Hey!"

"My bad. My, uh, foot slipped."

Fortunately for him, this kid doubled as some kind of spider monkey, shimmying up inside the machine with relative ease and snatching the penguin from the pile.

"See? That wasn't so hard." Santana tucks the stuffed bird under her arm while Brittany helps the boy out of the machine and gives him his promised money.

If she was alone, she'd take the penguin and her money, and be like _adios, muchacho!_ and leave the kid penniless - after all what the fuck do kids need with money anyways? - but she knew with Brittany right here, she'd never let her get away with it.

"Hey! What do you kids think you're doing?"

And that, of course, would be the manager.

Figures.

Santana and Brittany look at each other, then at the kid who looks at them in turn, before exclaiming, "Run!"

(Before taking off, Santana may or may not have pushed the kid out of her way).

—

Santana running out on her was nothing she's never seen before, but the sight was unpleasant nonetheless.

Once she recovers from the initial shock, Quinn slowly makes her way over to her open doorway and closes the door. With a sigh, she touches her forehead, suddenly with a headache.

_Tentatively, she steps out onto the fjord. The water freezes instantly. She could still hear them chasing after her, trying to stop her; she breaks into a run. Ice spreads with each step..._

It's only when Quinn blinks that she finds herself back in her apartment.

Huh. Running away used to be _her_ thing.

Quinn feels herself frown, no idea why she just thought that. And no idea what that...flash...had been. Was it some kind of vision?

A hallucination?

She turns her head with disbelief. Now she's seeing things while she's awake?

_Great._ Her eyes fit to the ceiling. _Just great._

As if she wasn't losing her mind enough as it was.

Less than an hour passes before Santana finally returns. Quinn spends the time waiting somewhat patiently, Brittany's continuous texts helping to ease her worries.

When she opens her door Santana's standing there with what looked like a stuffed penguin and a box of chocolates in the crook of one arm, and her paper flowers still firmly in the other. "Happy One Month." she says breathlessly, presenting both gifts to her.

Quinn smiles faintly in amusement. "Did you run back here?"

"Maybe."

As she takes in her gifts, Quinn could see Santana shift apprehensively. "In my defense, if I had known one month anniversaries were a legit thing I would've been like, prepared."

At that reminder, she lifts her gaze and softly says, "I'm sorry. About all of this."

Judging by the eyebrow raise she receives in response, Santana was not expecting an apology from her. But Quinn knows it was necessary - she shouldn't have acted so rashly. She probably should have thought of some covert way to broach the subject to get an idea of where Santana was at before springing this anniversary news on her.

"It's just," She pauses and shakes her head to herself. This whole matter was really embarrassing now that she thought back on it and therefore wasn't something she wanted to rehash. "This guy from school came to the shelter wanting to get a dog for his girlfriend for their five month anniversary. And while he was looking, he was telling me about everything he did for their monthly anniversaries and though _we_ never talked about it, I immediately freaked, thinking this was a normal thing teenagers celebrate and that I was j-just not informed. It's really stupid."

Quinn keeps her head lowered, painfully aware of her rapidly beating heart and the babbling resulting from it. "I just worried you'd be disappointed if I didn't do anything..." she trails off as her gaze drops pointedly to the paper bouquet in her hand. "I wanted to get you real flowers but they die so fast and you have such a sensitive nose, I wasn't sure if they'd bothered you, but I didn't want to not get you anything and screw up our special day which, as it turns out," she says with faint amusement, "Isn't really that special because neither of us ever thought about celebrating this kind of thing in the first place."

She chances a glance at Santana and worries her bottom lip, unsure of her reaction to all this information.

Stepping closer to her, Santana shakes her head. "I don't know who the bigger idiots are: us for losing our cool over a _one month anniversary_, of all things." Quinn smiles at the way she makes a grand gesture of rolling her eyes. It definitely puts her a little more at ease. "Or those couples who legitimately celebrate monthly anniversaries."

"I'll say it's a little of both." she admits, agreeing that, "An anniversary kind of loses its significance if you celebrate every single month."

"Yeah never mind the fact that the word anniversary fucking translates to 'an annual date'." Santana says, watching her go and set down her gifts on the counter.

"But all the same," Quinn jumps a little when she feels Santana touch her lower back, then slowly guide her back around to face her. "I really appreciate the flowers." Santana murmurs, her hands finding her waist and bringing her closer.

Quinn smiles bashfully at the gesture, though secretly grateful for it - she'd be lying to herself if she said she didn't need the reassurance that she'd done alright.

"They're really fucking cool. And it means a lot that you took the time out to do that." Santana says sincerely, touching her forehead with hers.

"And thank you for the penguin." she says in return, lightly cupping Santana's cheek and kissing the other one. "And the chocolates." she giggles.

"But to be clear," Santana pulls back a little but keeps her arms wrapped around her. "Since it is _our_ anniversary, I get half them chocolates."

"Sure. Sure." she humors, before teasing, "Would you like half the penguin too?"

Just then Santana's stomach gives this long, low grumble that has her quickly blushing and Quinn stifling a laugh.

She looks down at the space between them, then back again. "I think," she pauses, another growl interrupting her. "I need to feed you."

"Some chocolate?" Santana adds hopefully, side-eyeing to the box on the counter.

Quinn shakes her head. "_After _dinner." she promises, depositing a quick kiss to Santana's pouting lips.

"You're no fun." she grumbles, turning to walk away.

"Wait." Quinn grabs her arm at the last second. "I have to know something."

"If Brittany told you I stole those chocolates she's lying. I totally paid for them when she wasn't looking." Santana says quickly, her eyes slightly wide.

"Huh?" Quinn shakes her head, making a mental note to ask for clarification later. "No, what's your favorite flower?"

"Oh." Santana visibly relaxes. Then says off-handedly while rounding the counter, "Whatever ones Georgia O'Keefe paints."

"Santana!" she laughs.

"What?" Santana looks up and innocently shrugs. "I can't help it if they speak to me on a deep personal level."

Quinn just shakes her head when that wicked smirk finally peeks through - she knew it would - and turns around to grab them some plates. "I don't even know what to say to that."

Not long after dinner, Quinn finds herself on Santana's lap while the brunette's back is up against the sofa arm rest, even though there was plenty of room for them to each sit comfortably on their own. The tv's on in the background but neither are paying much attention to it.

"What kind's that one?"

Quinn peers down at the chocolate she'd just taken a bite of, trying to distinguish the soft center while she chews. "I think it's some kind of almond buttercream." she says, then offering the rest to Santana, who leans forward and promptly snatches it with her mouth.

"Pretty good." Santana nods, her face a far cry from the one she'd made a little while ago when she'd accidentally taken a bite out of a cherry cordial (her least favorite one, Quinn now knows).

Seeing half the box of chocolates demolished, she swallows and says, "We should really stop."

Santana looks down and sucks the residual chocolate off her thumb. The sight of which was not at all distracting. "Yeah, guess you're right." she concedes. "One more though." she says, taking one for herself and then offering the rest of the box to her.

Quinn bites her lip in contemplation. She really shouldn't have any more - she's had enough sugar for the whole week, never mind the night - but god, these chocolate were like _heaven_.

"C'mon, Q." Santana implores, moving the box around under her nose. "You know you want it."

"All this chocolate is going to go straight to my ass." she protests feebly.

Santana looks all too delighted with that prospect. "Then by all means eat up!"

Though Quinn glares, she takes one last chocolate anyways.

Santana leans forward and instinctively Quinn moves her arm back, keeping the piece of candy out of the notorious chocolate thief's reach.

Santana rolls her eyes and lands a kiss to her jaw, smiling, "Dork. I'm gonna put these away before I get tempted." she says, referring to the box of chocolate. She shifts Quinn off of her lap and stands. "Out of sight, out of mind."

For some reason, Quinn finds herself staring at the piece of candy held between her thumb and forefinger for a prolonged moment.

"Quinn?" she hears Santana say.

"My sister was obsessed with chocolate." she murmurs, remembering the detail out of nowhere. "She could literally smell it in the air."

We both could.

_A party. Their first time in the same room together in years. They close their eyes and inhale deeply...Nothing to unite them quite like, "Chocolate!"_

Quinn's brow draws together as the vision fades, her gaze still on the chocolate.

"You okay there, snowflake?"

Feeling Santana's concern, she nods, even though that vision - it was like she _knew_ the details, the setting, but she couldn't clearly see it - was like she was wearing glasses that were the wrong prescription. "I just don't know where that came from."

"Yeah, you never really talk about her." Santana quietly agrees, looking at her with worry while she tried to collect herself.

"Cause I don't really remember her." she says quietly, putting the chocolate back in its place. "Or at least..."

_I think I don't._

Quinn looks back up, not exactly wanting to delve into that Pandora's box, but kind of needing to. "Brittany says all these strange dreams and memories are just us remembering a past life."

"A past life." Santana repeats. Then frowns. "Like, reincarnation?"

Quinn just nods.

"Do you believe in that too?"

Quinn shrugs unknowingly, but admits, "It's a nice theory. I mean, it beats my own theory that I'm simply going crazy."

Despite this, she's avoided making plans to see a psychiatrist. If she was indeed losing her mind, she'd rather leave it unconfirmed.

Ignorance is bliss, after all.

(Well that and she didn't want to risk being sent to a mental ward).

"Truly crazy people never admit to being crazy." Santana reassures.

Quinn chooses to believe this, for the sake of her sanity, and leans into Santana's shoulder, resting her head there. "What do you see in your dreams?" she asks curiously, managing a small smile when Santana's arm moves to wrap around her.

"I see red a lot."

"Like blood?" she frowns.

"Sometimes." Santana nods. "And, from the ones I remember, I'm always like in the woods."

"Maybe you were a bunny rabbit in another life." she teases, earning a derisive snort from the brunette. "Don't look at me like that!" she laughs. "You could have reincarnated from an animal."

"I revoke my earlier statement." Santana deadpans, before cracking a grin, "You are batshit crazy."

"Says the Pot to the Kettle." she shoots back playfully.

A brilliant smile breaks out when Santana's face drops in a comical fashion. "I am not crazy!" she scoffs, affronted.

"Normal people don't bring wheelbarrows to dining establishments looking to exploit the owner's kind promise of unlimited breadsticks, Santana."

(It'd taken several profuse apologies, some serious crocodile tears, and a promise to Tony himself that he would never see that candy apple red wheelbarrow ever again - an incident that still utterly mortifies her to this day).

Santana rolls her eyes. "It was a _joke_."

"You and I both know that's not true." she scoffs, seeing right through her. "You would not have risked getting a lifetime ban from Tony's for a joke."

"_Please_." Santana shoots her a sideways glance. "I would not have gotten banned. With the amount of food I order from that place I practically pay the guy's mortgage."

"Aren't you exaggerating just a little?"

Santana narrows her eyes. "So what if I am?" she challenges, her mouth upturned into a smirk. "What's it to ya?"

Quinn just shakes her head and reverts her attention forward, a smile playing across her lips.

They're silent for a while after that. It's comfortable of course. But even then, though Santana was idly playing with her hair while they watched tv, Quinn could sense there was something on her mind other than the sitcom playing out in front of them.

"Quinn, can I ask you something?" Santana finally asks during a commercial, ending her period of contemplation.

"No more chocolate, Santana." she automatically says. "Otherwise you'll have a serious upset stomach."

Her smile falters a little when she looks over and sees Santana staring at her uneasily, making it clear that what she was about to say wasn't going to be something humorous.

"Are you happy?"

Quinn blinks at the question. "What?"

"Like, are you happy?" Santana says again, keeping her arm draped behind her shoulders but looking obviously uncomfortable. "With me?"

"Of course I'm happy." she says as steadily as she can, trying to calm the fast approaching panic that threatened to engulf her body. She had no idea where exactly this was all coming from and that coupled with the fact she didn't know where it was going had her very, very concerned. "Aren't you?"

"Yeah, of course." Santana nods vehemently.

Quinn raises her brow, sensing the "But" from a mile away.

"I just hate that I can't...do anything with you." Santana expresses in a disgruntled way.

Her brow furrows. "What?"

"I mean," Santana rolls her eyes, knowing, "This is obviously _doing_ something, but I can't take you out to dinner on a real date. I can't hold your hand in public, kiss you in between classes. None of that."

Quinn nods her head, comprehending now. With a sigh, she shifts around to regard Santana fully.

"Santana," she starts, her hand moving to rest over her thigh. "It's okay."

"No it's not." she immediately denies, removing her arm from around her shoulders and turning more toward her. "It's not okay. You are not someone to hide."

Quinn opens her mouth to respond but Santana keeps going, jumping up halfway through her impassioned rant. "I mean, fuck, the person you're with should be able to scream it from the goddamn roof how much they care about you. Not act like they're ashamed of you or something..."

"Hey." Quinn pushes herself off the sofa and cuts off both Santana's rambling and her pacing. She stops right in front of her and shifts her head, trying to get Santana to look at her. "Santana, I don't know where you ever got that idea but you have never made me feel like or treated me like someone you are ashamed of." Quinn slips her hand behind her neck, and Santana's eyes finally rise to meet hers. "You are beyond good to me." she smiles in earnest, their faces mere inches from each other.

Santana pulls back with a small sigh. "But doesn't it bother you like at all? All the secrecy?"

"It's not ideal," she concedes with a slight nod. "But that doesn't mean I'm unhappy. Because in the grand scheme of things what this comes down to is either being with you or not being with you. And I _want_ to be with you." she assures, stressing the word to ensure there was no doubt about it. "And if being with you means holding hands under the table and stealing kisses in empty classrooms - fine, so be it. I can live with that."

"But that's not fair to you though." Santana argues half-heartedly.

"It's not fair to you either." she points out, only to have Santana roll her eyes and shake her head like this wasn't about her. "Santana, this is my choice and... look, I know I'm not like Brittany who wears her heart on her sleeve but I _am_ happy with you. You have to know that. The only way I could possibly be happier with you is if we could find some way to utilize your warmer than average body temperature and cook bacon on your abs."

Santana scoffs a laugh at that comment, smiling wide in spite of herself, and Quinn grins at the accomplishment.

Shaking her head though, Santana's amusement eventually subsides, and Quinn could see the doubt settle back on her features.

"Santana," she warns.

"You're okay with this for now," she sighs. "But eventually you'll get tired of sneaking around, of not being able to do normal couple things, and I..." Santana's gaze drops to the floor briefly in embarrassment. She takes in a fortifying breath. "I'm just scared you'll start resenting me for not being what you need. I feel like you deserve better."

Quinn shakes her head, sighing, "I don't want better, Santana. Not that there is such a thing. I just want you."

Quinn purses her lips together, something suddenly occurring to her. What if Santana bringing all this up was just her way of trying to tell her she was unhappy and wanted out?

"You want me too right?" she continues less confidently, the uncertainty that thought brought sinking to the bottom of her stomach like a stone.

"Of course I want you." Santana mumbles, a little indignant she'd even ask.

Quinn hears the words and though she felt inclined to believe them, she could feel that the doubt already had her in a vice like hold. "Because if you don't really if you'd rather be with someone else..."

"Someone else?" Santana looks back at her quizzically. "What the hell is that coming from?" she demands to know. "Someone else? Who else is there?"

Quinn raises her brow. "Dani."

Santana mirrors her expression. "Dani?" she repeats, confused.

Quinn nods and wordlessly moves back over to the sofa.

"She's a friend." Santana frowns, sitting back down beside her.

Quinn picks up the stuffed penguin Santana had brought her and sets it in her lap, needing something to hold her together. "That doesn't mean feelings couldn't develop." she quietly says.

_It happened with us, after all._

"Develop?" Santana scoffs, disbelieving. "Quinn, Dani wants us to work out. Besides she made it perfectly clear she doesn't date high school girls. So it's not like—"

"So what? I'm just a consolation prize?" Quinn interrupts, that comment admittedly rubbing her the wrong way. "You couldn't have her so you settle for me?"

"For fuck's sake, Fabray." Santana rolls her eyes. "Of course not. Now did I think I was into her at first, yes, but that's because I was deluding myself the truth about how I felt about you. I was confused. When things got all weird between us my head was all screwed up and—"

"So what the next time we have a misunderstanding you're gonna just follow the first hot girl you see back to Neverland?"

Santana shakes her head, her jaw clenched. "Quinn, shut up a second and let me finish." she says as kindly as she can, obviously trying not to let her emotions get the better of her. "Dani is my friend. She is someone I can talk to when I need someone other than you and Britt to hear me out and help me sort through my shit. She can relate to me in ways others can't and she knows a hell of a lot more about dating and relationships and girls than I do. Which is why I go to her for advice sometimes, I wanna make sure I don't like, accidentally screw things up with you."

Quinn closes her eyes and sighs, knowing her insecurities had her acting irrationally. She had more trust in Santana than what she was communicating at the moment. "I'm sorry." she breathes, her gaze rising up to meet hers. "I'm just...I don't get it, you know? What is it about me that makes you look at me like...like..." Her words trail off as she tries to find a name for those all stares she's caught Santana giving her when thinks she's not paying attention. Unable to come up with anything, she ducks her head in embarrassment, wishing she'd never brought it up.

Santana tilts her head curiously. "Like what?"

When Quinn doesn't answer right away, Santana fills in the blank. "Like I really fucking like you?" she chuckles. "I could ask you the same thing, snowflake."

Quinn's gaze softens empathetically. There was humor in her tone but she could tell there was some underlying seriousness just from the flicker in the girl's eyes.

"Santana," Reaching out, Quinn covers her hand with hers. "There's a lot in my life I'm unsure of. My past, my future, whatever the hell Dani's last name is—"

"She swears she doesn't have one." Santana interjects, cracking a smile at the mention. "Like Madonna or Cher." At Quinn's disbelieving brow, Santana rolls her eyes and nods, sharing the sentiment. "Not that I believe her for a second. Don't worry though, Detectives Snix and Britt are already on the case."

Santana flashes her such a cute smile that it nearly makes Quinn completely forget what she was supposed to be saying.

"Anyways," She shakes her head slightly, struggling to pick up right where she left off. "What I was trying to get at is, in spite of all this uncertainty I have, you are the one exception. There's not anything or anyone I am more certain about than you. So much doesn't feel right to me but being with you does."

Santana drops her gaze, smiling in an obviously pleased, but kind of embarrassed, way. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." she confirms, matching her smile.

She felt more connected to her than anyone else. A feeling she's had for as long as she's known Santana, even going back to early days of their friendship when they weren't sure what to make of each other.

Upon first meeting Santana it was like something deep within her soul went "Found you!", as if her and Santana been playing a game of hide and seek the rest of her was not in on. It was strange. But, of course, Santana's less than friendly attitude toward her back then had made it easy to dismiss as a momentary lapse in sanity.

But now, thinking back, she wondered if there was more to the feeling than that.

"I'm sorry for running out without an explanation." Santana apologizes after a moment, slipping her hand out from under Quinn's, only to cover hers and interlock their fingers. "It's a habit I'm definitely gonna have to work on breaking."

"As long as you come back." she shrugs, squeezing her hand.

"You have nothing to worry about, you know." Santana says quietly, shifting even closer to her. "I know I tend to hang out with Dani whenever I'm not hanging out with you, but _you're_ my girlfriend. I'm dedicated to making this work. If I weren't I wouldn't have run all over town like a damn chicken without its head looking for a one month anniversary gift for you."

Quinn purses her lips together, fighting a ridiculously happy smile.

Which Santana notices. "What?"

"That's the first time you've called me your girlfriend."

"Well you are, aren't you?"

"I wasn't sure." she admits honestly. "I mean, we said we were dating, but part of me wasn't sure if they were two different things or not. I didn't want to assume..."

Santana rolls her eyes fondly. "You've been my girl for a while now, Quinn."

"And you've been mine."

Santana smiles smugly. "That being said..." Quinn frowns when she leans forward and plucks her stuffed penguin off her lap and tosses it carelessly aside. "That's enough penguin cuddles. You want something to hold, I'm right here."

Quinn shakes her head, smiling in spite of herself. "You're adorable." she breathes, cupping her face and bringing her close.

"_Badass_." Santana corrects for what is probably the hundredth time since she's known her.

"You're both." she chuckles, resting both her hands on her shoulders as Santana pulls her back onto her lap. "Deal with it."

Santana just grins and presses her lips against hers. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she sees Marshmallow snatch up the penguin off the floor between his teeth.

"Oh hell no!"

Before Quinn knows what's happening, Santana's pushing her off her and making mad dash around the sofa, yelling at Marshmallow in Spanish.

"Santana!" she scoffs.

"Sorry, but I did not fork over ten bucks and shove a child in a machine for that damn penguin to become a chew toy!"

"Wait, what?" Quinn does a double take over her shoulder, then jumps upright. "Santana!"

—

_'So how'd things go?'_

Brittany sends this text once enough time has passed, wanting to make sure Quinntana had survived their one month anniversary. She didn't care if it was eleven o' clock at night, she'd go over to both their places and talk some sense into them if she had to.

While waiting on a response from either one of her dorks - she hopes the reason they weren't texting back because they were busy making out and not breaking up - Brittany goes about cleaning her room. She'd managed to keep it relatively clean over break but once school started back up again, her organized chaos wasn't so much 'organized' as it was just chaotic.

Brittany sits on the floor by her bed, rubbing her temple, her brow slightly furrowed. Maybe she was just overwhelmed by all the crap she had but she's been getting an awful lot headaches lately. Not only that but she's been seeing things.

Granted, not in the creepy Sixth Sense "I see dead people" kind of a way, but they were visions all the same. Usually she only saw things when she was asleep, but she was getting these weird flashes - daydreams? - while she was awake at the most random times.

Man, her subconscious must really want her to remember past life for some reason.

She wondered why it was so important.

Shaking her head to herself, Brittany moves on her knees, then sinks onto her stomach to clean under her bed. While clearing out the space, she comes across a bunch of random and sometimes gross stuff, and Lord Tubbington surprisingly enough.

"So that's where you disappeared to." she murmurs, pulling the fat tabby - with some effort - out of his apparent man cave.

"Only a month in and you're already hiding from the missus?" She releases him with a shake of her head. "Shame on you, Tubs."

Once he's out of the way, Brittany resumes her cleaning under the bed. She's just about got everything but she could feel a book of some kind just barely out of reach. It takes a few tries, and some grumbled cursing, but she eventually gets it out.

Pulling the book forward, she frowns down at it. It was a big, brown leather bound book, vintage in style.

Now she has a pretty good mental catalog of all her possessions, but she's certain this book is something she's never seen before in her life.

Brittany swipes away the layer of dust with her sleeve.

_Once Upon a Time_.

Huh.

Maybe it was just one of those things that slipped her mind and she forgot she had.

Whatever the reason, Brittany sits back down and she pulls the children's book into her lap, opening to the first page.

She always was a sucker for a good fairy tale.

* * *

**AN: Man I keep writing these long ass chapters and I still have so much to tell you all! Aargh, it's very frustrating. But only because I have no patience, and am very excited. **

**Now, as a head's up, I return to school next week so depending how busy I get, it might take a while for the next chapter. If it becomes an exceedingly long update time - which I don't think it will but who knows - feel free to bug me!**

**As for the upcoming chapters, more _everything_ to come!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: So much for making that Halloween deadline...**

**Whoops. When life gets in the way, well then four months go by. Sorry about that.**

**Fun fact: I've got a guy in one of my new classes this quarter whose his last name is _Quintana_. He always sits next to me. Now if that's not the universe's way of reminding me I need to get my shit together and write more Quinntana, then I don't know what is.**

**_Anyways_.**

**Here's 40k, long overdue. It picks up right where chapter 8 left off, as promised. Enjoy!**

* * *

To Red, the moment feels like it plays out in slow-motion, but really everything happens quite fast.

The second her feet touch on the ground, she launches her only weapon with every ounce of strength she has, ignoring the sharp protest her shoulder gives.

The blade cuts through the air at lightning speed, but her target acts faster, disappearing in a cackling rush of purple smoke.

And with nothing to penetrate, the sword clatters uselessly to the floor.

Time returns to its normal pace, and with it Red roars in frustration.

"Where'd she fucking go?"

Half expecting the Evil Queen to re-materialize somewhere else, she whips around in both directions, only to be stopped dead in her tracks when she sees the unconscious form Snow was leaning over.

Red's never felt such a physical reaction hit her so hard, so fast. Her entire body goes stiff on her, like it'd just been hit with ice water. "Wh..." The question floats around in her head so clearly but she fumbles with her speech, her brain struggling to get the words out.

One beat, then two.

"What, _what the hell happened?_"

She's rushing over and dropping to her knees in an instant, mirroring Snow's position. "On second thought don't answer that." she says just before Snow can open her mouth.

She's not sure she can handle the details quite yet.

"She's just unconscious." Snow murmurs in an assuring but still obviously shaken tone.

Instinct has Red placing a hand on Elsa's forehead. Her stomach drops. _She's also too warm_.

"Red, we need to get out of here right now. If she comes back we're..."

Red quickly loses focus of anything her friend was saying, distracted by the sight that was Elsa's hands.

Or what was _supposed_ to be her hands.

_"What the hell happened?" _

Red tears her gaze away from Elsa to find Rapunzel standing in the same spot where she'd initially landed only a few seconds ago, looking horror-struck.

"Red, _her hands_..."

"We know." she interrupts, not unkindly. She swallows hard, her gaze flickering back. The longer she stares at Elsa, the harder it is to remain calm.

"We're...we're leaving now."

She tries to maintain a steady tone but even to her ears she sounded dangerously close to dissolving into a sob.

_Her snowflake was hurt._

And while it wasn't her fault, some part of her felt entirely responsible.

So much for being a protector.

Inside, her wolf whines pitifully.

Red shakes her head, sniffling, knowing she couldn't lose it, not now, and carefully proceeds to ease Elsa up off the floor.

"What are we going to do about Anna?"

A new wave of pain floods her shoulder as she undertakes Elsa's weight but she ignores it, just as she does Rapunzel's question. Not because she didn't care, she fucking did, but she barely knew how she was going to help Elsa, let alone her sister, and right now she could only focus on her snowflake.

"There's no time to do anything now." Snow answers for her, thankfully. There's honest regret in her tone but not enough to make her consider thinking twice on it. "We stay any longer and we're dead for sure. We'll have to come up with another way."

Red blindly follows the short brunette's lead out the door and down the corridor. She tries to take as many fortifying breaths as she can to stop her insides from trembling but it wasn't working out so well. As much as she didn't want to admit it, the smell of burnt flesh was starting to get to her and coupled with the fact that Elsa felt so much like a broken doll in her arms, she finds herself really struggling to keep her shit together.

Rounding the corner, Snow emits a small shriek when she suddenly comes nose to nose with the jagged tip of an arrow.

Red jerks back almost violently. Then swears when she sees who it is. Her wolf was on edge enough as it was, she did not need this shit.

Robin lowers his bow. A mutual relief filters through him and his guys when they see it was only them. "Thank God." he sighs. "We've been looking all over for you. Did you find — " The words stall on his lips when his gaze lands on Elsa. His expression changes fiercely, leading him to demand, "What the hell happened?"

_That was the fucking question of the hour wasn't it?_ Red thinks with deteriorating patience. She swears if she heard those words more time she was gonna lose it for real.

"No time to explain." Snow says shortly, shooing Robin backward. "We need to get out of here as soon as possible." She looks over his shoulder, noticing they were missing people, then back at him with slight panic. "Where are the others?"

"We split up to cover more ground."

Snow relaxes minutely, then nods her approval. "Smart. Maybe they were able to find Anna. C'mon!" She pushes Robin more insistently. "We haven't the time to waste!"

Out in the forest is where everyone regroups. Fortunately they've all made it out in one piece, save for a few minor injuries here and there, but unfortunately the others had no better luck in tracking down Anna than the girls had.

While everyone else gathers the horses to make their getaway, Red stands with Elsa still cradled in her arms. Her muscles were aching and jittery, but not just from having to carry Elsa. She'd sorely underestimated the effect even a little silver could have on her. Her less than stable emotional state sure wasn't helping any. She could feel the wolf teetering on the edge, and if she wasn't careful—

Red turns her head away from that thought.

Relax. Breathe. _You'll be fine_.

Rapunzel stops in front of her, having brought over Elsa's horse, Sitron with her.

"You look worse than Elsa."

Red's still grimacing at the sight of the steed - horses she could definitely not handle right now - when her nostrils flare unappreciatively at the blonde's comment. "I'm fine."

Rapunzel ignores her glare, obviously more interested in the details she wasn't acknowledging. "You're shaking." Releasing Sitron's reins, she steps forward, beckoning for Elsa. "Here. I'll take her."

Unthinking, Red steps back, her grip on Elsa tightening stubbornly.

The extent of her distress must be written all over her face because Rapunzel looks at her with concern. "It's okay, Red." she whispers gently.

In the back of her mind Red knows the smart thing to do would be to hand Elsa over, but she can't will herself to let go. Not when she's sure the snowflake was the only thing keeping her from completely falling apart.

"Red." Rapunzel says a little more sternly, if only to get through to her. "She'll be safe with me. _You know that_."

That she does. Still, Red could do with some further coaxing to put her mind more at ease. But they both knew there was no time for that - so she grudgingly passes Elsa's limp form over to Rapunzel.

Once Elsa's safely tucked in the blonde's arms, Red looks back at the horses. She swallows hard, trying to push down the ever increasing sick feeling in her stomach. "I-I don't think I can ride."

Rapunzel nods in understanding. "Run along with us." she suggests instead. "You think you can turn?"

Red doesn't speak at first, afraid if she did she might just hurl instead. But slowly then, she feels herself nod, even if she wasn't entirely sure she could. She gradually steps back from the horses to walk a safe distance away, deeper into the trees.

As soon as she's alone, the wolf heaves in her chest. Enough to knock the breath out of her. She doubles over on hands and knees. She pants for a moment, the sting in her shoulder now a painful throb.

Turning seems unlikely with the way her body hurts, but the wolf - stubborn little shit that it is - isn't having it. As a result, she's barely able to get all her clothes off in time before it finally breaks free from its confinement.

She takes off into the night without pause.

On the bright side of things, they're able to escape from the kingdom without problem.

(Red's not quite sure where she found the strength to make the trek all the way back to Camelot but she did).

Now, safe behind castle walls, she proceeds as human, throwing her clothes back on haphazardly. Somehow her run managed to make her feel better and worse all at the same time.

"We need a medic." she overhears Rapunzel say. "No, I got her. Are Tiana and Bell still around? Someone find them. Now."

It's times like this where Red was extremely grateful for Rapunzel. The girl could take charge when necessary.

The strength of her voice, though, has her sensitive ears wincing.

Red hurries to catch up to the others inside. There's a lot of commotion going on. It's enough to make her second guess her decision not to stay wolf a little longer.

"Step aside, we got this!"

Red turns her head in time to see a frantic Bellamy rushing toward them with Tiana perched on his shoulders, bouncing along with him, and John leading the way, having been the one to retrieve them from their room.

"GET OUT THE WAY!" Tiana's powerful set of pipes were liable to awaken the whole kingdom with that order alone. "BOY DON'T MAKE ME SMACK YOU! MAKE YOURSELVES USEFUL WHY DON'T YOU?"

As Tiana rattles off a list of items she's going to need, the others promptly disperse to fetch them or risk facing her wrath. Meanwhile Rapunzel carries Elsa into her bedroom.

Red, as much as she wanted to be in the room with them, makes a last second decision to stay out in the hallway. She pushes back against the wall for support. She didn't know shit about healing and she knew she'd only be in the way in there. Besides being in a confined space with a lot of activity going on just didn't sound smart right now.

"Hey. You okay?"

Red turns her head. Apparently she wasn't the only one who stayed behind. "Just peachy." she mutters, in no real mood to talk.

Robin rolls his eyes before explaining, "John told me what happened." His gaze flickers to her shoulder. "So are you like, okay?"

"I'm fine." she maintains even though she knows it was the farthest thing from the truth. She felt like hell. And she wasn't just being dramatic.

"Look, I'm no expert but I've heard stories about werewolves and silver and how the two don't mix." She just snorts. "And judging by how fucked up you look right now, I'd say they were true."

Red glares back at him in annoyance. "Just leave me alone would ya?"

Robin, of course, dismisses her request and tries to get her to turn around. "Lemme see."

With an exaggerated sigh she relents, if only to get him off her back. She pushes down her sleeve. Then grimaces slightly.

"Well," Robin says after a moment's inspection. "I've seen worse."

Red can't resist the eye roll that time. "No shit." she scoffs, yanking her sleeve back up. "I heal fast. It'll be fine."

"Obviously not fast enough." Robin disagrees, taking another peek at her shoulder wound. "That thing could still get infected."

"I don't get infections."

Robin raises his brow. "You ever been exposed to silver before?" He nods at her reluctant silence. "Didn't think so. C'mon. You gotta get that shit taken care of." He turns his body, expecting her to follow him. And when she doesn't, he rolls his eyes. "You really gonna make me throw you over my fucking shoulder?"

"Try it and and I'll rip your goddamn throat out."

Her eyes narrow suspiciously when Robin just smiles at her. "What?"

"You remind me of my little sister." he explains with a slight smile. "Feisty little brat. Too stubborn for her own good."

"Sounds charming." she remarks dryly before fixing him with a skeptical glance. "Why are you so concerned about me anyways? Don't tell me the wolf scared the shit out of you back at the castle and now you figure you gotta me nice to me otherwise I'll eat you. Because that would be super pathetic and I'd probably have to make fun of you for it."

Her smile falters somewhat when Robin just shakes his head, looking weirdly serious when she expected teasing in return. "No." he says in earnest. "I just..." He struggles for a moment. "Feel responsible for what happened, you know?" When Red looks at him questioningly, he elaborates with some discomfort, "I'm the one who put it in Elsa's head that she could handle the Evil Queen no problem. I thought with her power..." he trails off, his gaze lowering. "I just didn't think she could get hurt."

Red stares at him for moment, a little surprised that he cared so much. Or, at least, was admitting to it.

"Yeah, you and me both." she quietly agrees.

After a beat, Robin straightens up. He rolls his shoulders - a clear attempt to shrug off any lingering feelings of sentiment that went against his so-called 'badass' nature. "Anyways to answer your question, I figured the least I could do is make sure Elsa's beloved puppy doesn't drop dead while she's out of it."

"Fine." Red rolls her eyes, playing along. "You can help me take care of this." She gestures to her shoulder. "But you gotta carry me. It hurts too much to move let alone walk anywhere."

"Here." Robin reaches into his satchel and pulls out a bottle. He uncorks it before passing it to her. "This might help."

Red sniffs its contents warily. Alcohol. Whiskey.

"Just a taste." he nods when she raises her brow at him. "It'll help take the edge off."

Red looks back down at the bottle in her hands unsurely. She's never had whiskey or anything of the like before and with good reason. "I'm pretty sure wolves and alcohol are more of a lethal combination than wolves and silver but what the hell." She fucking hurts and needs something to dull the pain.

So with that, she takes a large swig.

"I said a taste, woman!" Robin exclaims, snatching the bottle away as she's swallowing. "Jeez. I need this stuff to clean your wound, you know."

"Stop talking bird brain." she orders, waving a dismissive hand. The rush of alcohol already has her head spinning. "Or I swear I'll fucking eat you."

"After tonight I don't doubt that in the slightest." Robin snorts, bending down to carry her piggy back style. "But don't think I wouldn't put up a fucking fight." he says over his shoulder. "I'm too much of a stud to be dog food."

Red just pushes his head forward.

"Egghead."

—

Sometime later, Red jerks awake, feeling something cold and wet being pressed against her skin. Her groggy eyes dart around for a second, unsure of her surroundings. Last she remembered she was with Robin.

"Take it easy, Red. It's just me."

When Rapunzel tries to put what she now realizes is a washcloth to her forehead again, Red pulls away and shakes her head to the side. "What are you doing?"

"You're hot." answers another familiar voice.

Propping her weight onto her elbows, Red rubs her eye clear of its hazy vision with the heel of her palm. "As flattered as I am, green bean, I'm taken." she mumbles.

She looks across the bed in time to see Tiana roll her eyes at her. As usual she's perched on Bellamy's shoulders.

"What she meant is your body temperature is warm even for you." Rapunzel explains, bringing back her attention. "And since we weren't sure if you could get fever or not, we figured we'd play it safe and try to keep you cool anyways."

Red turns her head and jumps to attention when she sees Elsa sleeping beside her on the bed. "What—" Too many questions come rushing to her brain all at once, making her fumble with her speech again.

"Is she okay?" she finally manages out. Her heart hammers in her chest as she looks back and forth between both blondes, torn between wanting to focus on them both. "Did you heal her?"

Elsa's hands were both heavily bandaged fingertips to wrists but maybe...

"I couldn't." Rapunzel regretfully shakes her head. "I mean I tried." she says at Red's disappointed glance. "I healed her leg but according to Snow, her hands...well we think it's because she was afflicted by magic. It's the only reason that makes sense why I can't use my healing power on her."

"Still we mixed a salve that should ease the sting." Bellamy speaks up. "She was burned quite badly but as long as we ward off any type of infection, I'm optimistic she'll be alright." He swallows, adding quietly, "In a manner of speaking, that is."

Red starts to get out of bed. She wasn't sure how long she was out for but she would start making up for the lost time now. "What can I do?"

"Nothing." Rapunzel says, stopping her with a gentle hand. "We'll take care of everything."

Red opens her mouth to protest but Tiana interrupts her. "You are healing just as much as Elsa is." she reminds much like a parent would. (Considering her froggy appearance the sight is just bizarre). "You need to take it easy."

With the way Rapunzel, Tiana, and Bellamy were all looking at her, practically daring her to argue, Red knows there was no getting away with anything. She sighs in defeat and grudgingly reverts to her previous position. As much as she didn't want to admit it, it felt damn good to sink back into the soft mattress. Her muscles were all but singing their praises.

"Keep resting." Rapunzel orders, standing upright. "We'll be back to check on you two in a little while."

"Someone will be standing watch outside if you need anything." Tiana adds, leaving with Bellamy.

"Thank you. I owe you guys one." Red says last minute before they exit. She was beyond appreciative of them taking care of Elsa in a way she herself couldn't.

"What are friends for?" Tiana simply smiles.

Red just nods. After the door closes behind them, leaving her in blessed silence, she exhales deeply, her body eager to slip back into unconsciousness.

But before she can though she feels a slight shift in the bed beside her, accompanied by a soft whisper.

"Red."

She turns her head unthinkingly, then does a double-take to ensure she wasn't just hallucinating things. When she sees Elsa's eyes slowly blink open, her chest rising with a stirring breath, she straightens up, wide-eyed.

"Hey." she breathes back, relief quickly overtaking her initial surprise. She hadn't expected Elsa to wake so soon.

Leaning forward, she kisses the blonde's brow. She ignores the desperate urge she has to kiss her all over. "You scared the shit out of me."

"M'sorry." Elsa's eyes flutter close in content when she rests her forehead against hers, wanting to maintain contact.

"You are not allowed to face off with any evil queens without me ever again." she murmurs, pulling back enough to look at the blonde seriously.

Red lightly nudges her nose with her own to ensure she heard, prompting the blonde to open her eyes again. "Got that?" she inquires, brow raised.

Elsa nods. "You look terrible." she whispers after a moment, tired but concerned eyes flitting across her face, taking stock of her.

Red rolls her eyes. "Thanks, snowflake." She nearly adds, _You're not one to talk_, but Elsa interrupts with, "I mean it. You look like someone slapped the ethnicity right out of you."

Red scoffs a prolonged laugh, the blonde's delivery so straight-faced. "So I'm not feeling so great. No need to rub it in." she playfully glares.

Elsa smiles weakly. "Sorry." Then her expression falters. "But seriously, what happened?"

Red heaves a reluctant sigh before confessing, "I kinda got shot with this silver arrow..."

As expected Elsa's eyes widen. Her head jerks away from the pillows involuntarily. "What?"

"It's nothing." she quickly assures, urging the blonde to lie back down. "I'm fine. I'm healing. My system's a little outta whack," she admits, "But the feeling will pass. No biggie."

Elsa doesn't look at all convinced. "But silver is lethal—" she protests.

"I pulled the arrow out right away." she interrupts, already knowing what Elsa was going to say. "I highly doubt a couple seconds exposure is gonna kill me."

"You never know." Elsa frowns, no less appeased.

"I'm gonna be fine. How are _you_ feeling?" she asks, wanting to shift things around. Because really neither one of them were in any condition to be arguing with each other.

Elsa's quiet for a moment. Hesitant. "Everything hurts."

She attempts a small smile but it turns into more of a quirked grimace.

It absolutely kills Red to see her like this. "If I could take the pain away trust me I would." she whispers, leaning forward to press another kiss to her forehead.

"Likewise." Elsa murmurs, lightly touching her nose to Red's. Her eyelashes flutter close again, this time at the feeling of Red's lips kissing a path down to meet her own. When their lips meet, it's a firmer exchange than either intended, probably out of a subconscious need for the comfort it provided.

They pull away from each other shortly after though, the impassioned embrace proving to be a little too much too soon for them in their weakened states.

Red leans back slowly, breathless but content. A tired smile tugs at her lips.

"Sleepy wolf." Elsa teases, while looking no less spent herself.

"It's been a long day." she shrugs.

"Yeah." Elsa's smile fades as the reality of what they failed to do sinks back in.

"Hey." She gently brings back the girl's attention with a light nose bump to her cheek. "We _will_ find her."

She didn't know the hell how but they would.

—

Two days go by and literally all they do is sleep.

Red was healing, albeit it slower than she's used to. Being a werewolf she's been accustomed to instantaneous healing all her life, with cuts, broken bones, and other injuries correcting themselves before she ever had a need to treat them herself. The puncture wound in her shoulder was different. It left her feeling groggy and sluggish, which was super annoying.

But she knows she couldn't really complain given that, after only two days, she was feeling significantly better even if she still wasn't a hundred percent back to her normal self.

Elsa, on the other hand, didn't have super fast wolf healing so there wasn't much of a difference with her. (Snowflake tried to put on a brave face but Red could see through it in a heartbeat; she knew she was still really fucking hurting).

And not being able to do anything about it was pretty much the worst part of all this whole ordeal. If there was anything she hated it was, not just feeling useless, but actually _being_ useless too.

All she could do now was make sure Elsa comfortable. Which, as of the moment, required her to be a human pillow for the blonde.

Red looks down at the sleeping queen whose face she felt was still nestled into the crook of her neck. In the time since they returned to the castle she hasn't left the blonde's side much - only when Rapunzel made her come downstairs for food.

(She knows Goldilocks was only looking out for her sanity - she knew as well as she did that her wolf would lose its shit being holed up within the same four walls for an extended amount of time, with or without Elsa - but still she didn't appreciate being dragged out of the room like a little kid).

Red smiles in spite of herself, still grateful for the tall blonde.

Of its own accord, the hand that's wrapped around Elsa slides up and finds her head, where Red's fingers come to caress her braid-free hair.

She stares up at the ceiling all the while and quietly hums to herself like she often does when she's awake like this and Elsa's still asleep. The room is cloaked in darkness, save for a long narrow slit of moonlight peeking out from the gap between the curtains, but Red could see clearly though - another werewolf perk.

Eventually, Red feels her eyes start drift close. At the end of the day, this - having Elsa in her arms, soaking up her warmth like a sponge - was the best perk by far.

Even if it did kind of worry her.

Before, Elsa never got cold. Now all she seemed to do is curl into her every chance she got. Not that Red was complaining or anything, considering how usually cautious Elsa whenever it came to touch. She just didn't know what this sudden change meant and if it was really a good thing or bad.

Her lips twitch when she feels the tiny tickle of Elsa's eyelashes against her skin, as her eyes begin to flutter open. A small sigh of content escapes the blonde.

Red turns her head and presses her lips to her hair. She patiently waits to see if snowflake would wake for real this time or just fall back asleep again.

The way Elsa begins nuzzling her nose against her neck tells her its the former.

"Well good evening, sleeping beauty." she teases, her voice raspy from sleep, when Elsa shifts back to meet her gaze. The sleepy snowflake looks like she's about to respond in kind but gets distracted by the feeling of Red's fingers massaging her scalp.

She looks so much like a content puppy getting a belly rub that Red can't help but laugh. "Adorable." she murmurs, her other hand coming up to brush Elsa's cheek reverently.

"I wish I could touch you." Elsa sighs, leaning forward and resting her forehead against her jaw.

"Ha. Dirty."

Elsa cracks a small smile before shutting her eyes in a silent groan. The hurt had come back full force now that she was awake to feel it. Red watches her raise a hand to rub her face, only to remember she couldn't.

"I feel like a lobster." Elsa pouts, her brow furrowing downward.

Red smiles sheepishly, taking in Elsa's wrapped hands. Maybe she had overdone it with the bandages today.

(In her defense first-aid was not her forte).

She should probably leave the bandaging up to Bellamy from now on.

"You're a cute lobster though."

"I don't feel cute." Elsa disagrees, shifting off of her carefully and onto her back. "I feel like someone cracked me open and tried to put me back together."

Red straightens up and rolls her neck, popping it in the process, then shrugs her bad shoulder experimentally. Elsa hadn't been sleeping on it but she's been laying still for a while and she felt a little stiff.

Elsa watches her do this. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." She looks over her shoulder to return the question but the blonde's expression distracts her.

"I'm sorry." Elsa quietly apologizes, her gaze locked on her shoulder.

"You haven't got anything to be sorry about."

Elsa slowly shakes her head. "You're hurt because of me." she says, tearing her gaze away from the bandage on her shoulder.

(It really didn't need one, Red didn't think, but the others didn't want to chance any type of infection so she grudgingly went along with it.)

"I got hurt because I wasn't paying attention." she gently corrects the blonde. "It had nothing to do with you."

"At the end of the day it all comes back around to me."

And with that loaded statement, Red nods to herself, understanding that this wasn't just about her, but about everything else - her sister included.

Elsa's always carried this guilt of the people she cared about getting hurt because of her. She'd said herself she hadn't wanted to add her to that list but now, in her mind, she has with this injury.

"This is all _her_ doing." Red says, opting to not make direct mention of the Evil Queen. She didn't want to bring about any painful flashbacks. Elsa was in enough pain as it was. "Not yours. It all comes back around to _her_. She's the bad guy here. Not you."

"I don't know about that." Elsa averts her gaze to the ceiling. "I tried to kill her. I _wanted_ to kill her."

"And you had every right to." she can't help but scoff. "If I were in your shoes I'd feel the same way. Hell, even out of your shoes I feel the same way."

She wanted to tear that woman apart.

"I'd actually convinced myself it was the right thing to do." Elsa murmurs, shaking her head to herself. "A person shouldn't give into those dark parts of themselves. That's probably why I failed. I tried to use my powers with malicious intent and I paid the price."

"Like you just said you were only doing what you thought was right." Red reasons.

"Killing someone is never right."

Red looks away for a moment, thinking of all the dead knights she left back at the Queen's castle. She didn't regret her actions though. Maybe she'd enjoyed it a little too much, but if she had to do it over again, she wouldn't change anything. She did what she had to. "It's not but sometimes it's necessary to keep the ones you care about safe. Sometimes to protect you have to kill."

"I know." Elsa quietly says. "I didn't mean it to sound like I'm passing judgment onto you...I just...I don't want to start down a slippery slope, you know? Become the monster people fear me to be."

"I've got blood on my hands but I'm not a monster. I mean I know I've gotta beast inside me that isn't what you'd call tame but it's not...there are real monsters out there." she settles with. "And we're not it."

She knew that much.

"And as for that slippery slope," she continues, meeting Elsa's curious gaze. "We'd never let each other go down a path like that."

"Yeah." Smiling faintly, Elsa moves to sit upright. Red automatically places a hand on her lower back to steady her. "But I don't think I'll have to worry about that now anyhow."

Red looks at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I think it's gone."

"What's gone?"

"My magic." Elsa lifts up her hands. "I never used to get cold before and I now it's like I do." she explains. "And my powers, I can usually feel them there. It's hard to explain. But the ice, it's like it's missing."

"Snowflake, that bitch melted you pretty damn good. You might not be able to feel the ice now but that doesn't mean it's gone. Like, _gone_ gone."

"And what if it is?"

"Then we'll fix it." she says easily enough. "Somehow. We'll do whatever it takes."

Elsa's lips curve into a small smile, even if Red got the impression she wasn't fully sure she wanted to be 'fixed'.

"Thank you, Red." Soft hazel eyes convey her gratitude. "For everything. For taking care of me..."

"I don't know about that." she interjects with a modest chuckle. "All I've done these past two days is sleep with you." Her eyes widen when she registers how that had sounded. "I mean - sleep _in_ bed, with you also there." she amends quickly.

"And helping me eat and helping me change clothes." Elsa softly continues, chuckling.

Red just shrugs. "That last one was as much for my benefit as it was yours."

Elsa smiles, knowing she was just joking. "Still it's appreciated. One day I'm going to find some way to repay you."

"Well that's not necessary but I'd be a fool not to hold you to that." she smirks. "Reparation can be paid in food or kisses. Or both. Whichever you prefer."

Elsa releases a short laugh.

"Knock, knock."

The two of them look away from each other in time to see Rapunzel poke her head into the room. "How are my two patients doing?" she inquires, pushing the door open a little wider to let herself in.

"We died under your horrible care and are now part of the undead." Red informs, earning a reprimanding elbow nudge from Elsa.

"That would explain the pale faces." Rapunzel snickers, then sticking her tongue out at Red who promptly returns it.

"That better not be what I think it is." she warns, her gaze drifting down to the tray Goldilocks was carrying over to them.

Rapunzel rolls eyes as she kicks the door closed behind her with her foot. "Stop being such a baby, Red. It's just tea."

She pulls a face nevertheless. "Tea that tastes like the guys soaked their dirty socks in it."

"It's an herbal remedy to help with the pain. It's been passed down from generations of Tiana's family. She swears by it."

"Pretty sure this is just her getting back at us for all those frog jokes." Red mumbles, reluctantly taking the cup Rapunzel passes her.

"Speak for yourself." Elsa lightly disagrees. "I've been nothing but nice to her. Besides this tea isn't that bad."

"I bet she fucking bathed in it. Frog booty water, that's what this is."

"Just drink it, Red." Rapunzel rolls her eyes, sitting down on the bed with them.

"Becoming more and more like my abuela each day." she grumbles, taking a tentative sip. "Ugh. Still gross." she grimaces with a sharp turn of her head. "I'm injured I don't see why you're punishing me like this."

Rapunzel merely shakes head and places a hand over Elsa's forehead. Then Red's, in total caretaker mode.

"So what's the verdict doc?" she asks when the blonde takes her hand away. "We gonna live another day?"

"Not if you don't drink your tea."

Red just rolls her eyes.

"How are the others doing?" Elsa asks.

"Fine." Rapunzel nods. "You and Red are the only ones who got really hurt. If anything they're restless. The guys are trying to figure out all kinds of new strategy for getting Anna back."

Elsa shakes her head to herself. "They really don't have to do that."

Red watches as she purses her lips together in contemplation before decisively moving to get off the bed.

"And where do you think you're going?" Rapunzel demands to know before Red can.

"I should really join them." Elsa distractedly says.

"You're not going anywhere." Rapunzel intervenes, blocking her way to the door. "It's only been two days."

"Two days I've allowed pass without doing anything at all. That's long enough." Elsa tries side-stepping out of her way to no avail. "Rapunzel, please. I've still got a sister missing. There isn't time to waste. We need to formulate a plan and—"

"Elsa, you need to take it easy." Red gently interjects, pushing herself off the bed and walking over to the blonde.

"I can rest later." Elsa shrugs her off stubbornly, the reminder of her sister reigniting the need to be productive. "They shouldn't be doing all the work."

Rapunzel folds her arms across her chest, unyielding in front of the door. "As Princess of Corona I order you get back in bed."

Elsa quirks her brow in that way that Red finds inexplicably attractive. "I'm queen I pull rank over you." she tells Rapunzel, mirroring her position.

"And I'm a werewolf which makes me more awesome than either one of you." Red throws in, if only to keep from being left out. She comes up beside Elsa and gently touches the small of her back. "Look, I know you're frustrated but you need to focus on you right now. The sooner you get better, the sooner we can act. If you push yourself too soon you're only going to make things worse."

"She's right." Rapunzel nods.

Elsa looks between them both, wanting to argue their position, only to heave a sigh of defeat. "I hate this."

Rapunzel smiles cheekily. "I hate it when Red's right too."

Red throws her a mock glare. "Hater."

—

When Red wakes the next morning she's grumpy as fuck. Her sleeping patterns were all out of whack now that she had gotten used to sleeping intermittently during both the day and night. She hadn't had a problem with it before - it was nice kind of shutting out the outside world and simply being alone with Elsa - but now she needed to back into work mode.

Elsa had a point yesterday. Anna was still with the Queen and they needed to do something about it.

After putting on some fresh clothes, Red finds everyone huddled around Arthur's round table, with various maps and open books scattered across the surface. Snow is the first to notice her presence.

"Red!"

The others look up from what they were doing and Red musters a smile to greet them with.

"How are you? How is Elsa?" Snow inquires right off the bat as she makes her way around to her. "Nothing's wrong is it?"

She shakes her head at the smaller girl's concern. "We're fine." She turns her head, her gaze drifting back to all that was spread out across the table. "So what's going on?"

"We're trying to plan another rescue mission." John answers promptly. "One that won't fail, you know?"

"Emphasis on the _'try'_." Robin mutters next to him.

Red looks back at Snow and immediately catches her exasperated head shake. "What?"

"It's ludicrous." she exclaims. "Not the whole rescuing Anna, of course." she amends quickly at Red's incredulous expression. "I just mean that we failed the first time for a reason. She wasn't anywhere we could find. Going back to that castle, which is what _they_ want to do, would be a suicide mission."

"Well what do you suggest then, Snow?" Robin snaps irritatedly. Obviously they've been arguing about this a lot.

"As much as I hate to admit it, Snow is right." Red interjects before those two could start another round. "We have no idea where the Queen's hiding Anna. If she had been in that castle I would have picked up on her scent," If only she'd realized it sooner. "Which obviously means she wasn't even there to begin with."

"That or the Evil Queen used some kind of cloaking spell." Mulan speaks up. "To make us think Anna wasn't there."

Red shakes her head, unknowing. "Either way Elsa - arguably the strongest one of us - went up against her and nearly got herself killed. We can't just go back there just like that."

"We still have fairy dust we can use." Jack points out.

"And you're free to use Excalibur." Arthur offers. "It's the strongest blade in all the realms. It might be able to..."

"The Queen would just poof out of the way." Red sighs, thinking of her own attempt at striking down that bitch down with a sword. "She's too smart for that."

"Now that we've lost the element of surprise it would be too dangerous to try and get close enough to use fairy dust on her." Shang says back to Jack, but still meaning it for the whole group. "She'd be expecting some kind of retaliation."

Snow nods in agreement. "And even if we did manage to use it on her successfully we'd still need her to find Anna. Mulan's right, she could be keeping Anna hidden somewhere with magic."

"Which narrows her location down to just about anywhere!" Robin groans in frustration.

"What if we don't get to her in time?"

Red turns her head sharply. "That's not going to happen." she glares at John, who instantly shrinks back.

"The Evil Queen wouldn't kill Anna." Snow shakes her head. "With her dead she'd have no other way of tormenting Elsa and that would end her fun. She enjoys toying with people."

Tiana who, as usual, was perched on Bellamy's shoulder, comments with a shake of her head, "Your step-mama is one sick woman."

"Tell me about it." Snow mutters.

Which reminded her. Red lightly nudges the shorter brunette once the conversation started to break up and discreetly nods her head to the side. "Can we talk?"

Snow looks at her questioningly but obliges, slipping out of the room with her.

"I'm going to warn you I don't have the strength or patience to deal with one of your usual lengthy diatribes so make your response as short as possible, por favor." Red says, arms crossed. She turns around to face her once they were out in the hallway, alone. "Is the Evil Queen really your mom?"

Normally she didn't like to push what she already knew were sore subjects, considering she herself hated when people tried to do that with her, but she felt she had a right to know given everything that was going on. They needed to be better prepared this second time around - they couldn't afford any more surprises.

"Did she bring me into this world? Yes. But she is not my mother. She didn't raise me." Snow murmurs, her discomforted gaze looking anywhere but at her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Red wonders. Granted they'd only known each other for a short period before going their separate ways way back when but in that time they'd shared a lot about themselves, both good and bad.

"She's my step-mother, that's the extent of our relationship." Snow maintains with a stiff shrug. "You found this out from Elsa I gather?"

"She mentioned it by accident while she was talking me through what happened when we were separated." Red confirms. "But she knew it wasn't her place to tell me so she didn't say anything more."

"But how is that even possible?" she can't help but ask, before Snow can respond. "How can the Queen be both your mother and step-mother?"

Snow just shakes her head for a moment, unsure of where even to begin. "She concocted the most elaborate scheme in history to become queen, let's put it that way."

As Snow explained how the Evil Queen gave her up when she was sixteen so she could have a better life, Red couldn't help but feel a little dismayed that the Evil Queen hadn't been a raging psychopathic bitch from birth. "She did what she had to, I guess." she mutters, empathizing in spite of herself. "So was she born with magic?"

Red figured she had to be. People don't just get power of that magnitude just like that, right?

"I'm inclined to believe so, yes." Snow nods.

"You know if she was born with magic she might've passed some kind of gift down to you." Red points out. Granted she wasn't sure if magic worked that way but if her parents had been able to pass the werewolf gene onto her, maybe...

"I'm sure if I had some kind of magical capabilities they would have manifested themselves in some shape way or form by now." Snow lightly disagrees. Before declaring more prominently, "Besides I have a gift: my voice."

Red snorts. "Don't forget about your modest disposition." she mutters sarcastically. She chuckles at the shorter brunette's playful glare.

"Anyways." Snow prompts with a roll of her eyes.

Red nods, able to take the hint. "So how far did this master plan of your mom's go back?" she questions seriously, curious to know. "Did she always plan to take the throne?"

Snow shakes her head "I just know she always felt she deserved better than the life she was given and wanted to change that. I don't know when she started her scheme. But I assume it was after I was born."

"How do you figure?"

"Why else would she wait years after my birth to poison my mother, that is the one I knew raised me, why not put her plan into motion right away?"

"Because she didn't one." Red guesses. _Or she was just biding her time._

"That's what I'm inclined to believe." Snow nods. "Getting rid of my mother was the first step. Then, after a respectable amount of time passed, she moved in on my father." she recollects bitterly. "She showed up at just the right place, at the right time, and under the right circumstances and won his heart. "

"She had to have used magic on him, right?"

"She claims she didn't." Snow sighs. "Apparently you can't use magic to make someone fall in love with you."

Red snorts. Like she'd trust the word of an evil queen. "So says her."

"At the beginning she was good to me." Snow admits, surprisingly. "It was nice. We bonded through our love of song. But as the years passed and it was obvious she wasn't happy and her marriage to my father wasn't working..."

"That's when her true colors started to show." Red guesses knowingly.

"I didn't realize it at the time but she resented the fact that I was my father's priority and that people loved me more than her. The fact that while I cared about her and loved her as much as I could a step-mother, she could not replace my mother." Snow nods. "Something which I never understood, especially after I found out she was my birth mother. I mean I was _her_ daughter, her own flesh and blood. How could she be jealous of me?"

"Because she's a disillusioned nutjob."

"And dark magic made her that way." Snow laments. "It's like a drug. The more you use it the more it corrupts your soul and twists your mind. It made her think I was some kind of a threat to her, that her unhappiness was _my_ fault."

"So she turns to dark magic when her life isn't turning out how she wanted it to and it literally makes her go apeshit."

Red remembered Snow telling her how after the Evil Queen found out the king had taken a male lover, she'd banished the two to the Infinite Forest - a place no one finds their way out of - and fooled the kingdom into thinking the king had died. Not long after she took the throne, she went after Snow by way of a Huntsman. But not before that failed apple poisoning...

"There are a lot of things I still don't understand and part of me doesn't want to." Snow confesses. "Nothing she can say can justify all the horror she's brought on. It's too late for that." Snow was one of those raw few who saw the good in people even when no one else did but obviously the Queen had pushed her too far, taken too much from her to ever make her see otherwise anymore.

"She has to be stopped."

Red nods in agreement. "Only question is how."

The moment of contemplative silence is interrupted when someone not-so confidently clears their throat. Both turn around quickly. Red raises her brow when she sees who it was.

"Jack." Snow acknowledges, as surprised as she was to see him standing there. "Is something wrong?"

"How much did you overhear?" Red demands to know, if only for Snow's sake.

Jack rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "I, uh, didn't mean to eavesdrop - I didn't hear much I promise, just that last part."

Red rolls her eyes. "What do you want, trouty mouth?"

"Look I know I'm not the smartest and fighting and strategy isn't really my game and maybe this is a dumb idea but I was just thinking that when it comes to the Evil Queen instead of fighting fire with ice, we need to fight fire with fire."

Snow gazes at him, then at Red, then back again, her brow furrowed. "What are you suggesting? That we need to fight the Evil Queen with dark magic?"

"Great idea, Jack." Red drawls sarcastically. "Because we totally have plenty of that lying around."

"I'm bringing it up because I know of someone who does." Jack sighs, a little annoyed he wasn't being taken seriously. "I didn't mention it earlier because I didn't think you'd go for it considering, well, but since we're all out of ideas... She's like a sorcerer. Er, sorceress. She's the one who gave me the magic beans that planted the beanstalk and—"

"Yeah, yeah we know about your Giant encounter." interrupts Red, exasperated. "And another sorcerer? No thanks. Not after Merlin."

She shakes her head firmly, her arms folded across her chest.

She's had it up to here with bibbidi bobbiddi boo-bitches.

"Even though she did give us fairy dust?" Snow questions, looking back at her.

"And she's been MIA ever since." Red retorts, still bitter that Merlin has since ignored every one of their calls. As powerful as she was they were all sure she could easily heal Elsa, but of course when they needed her help most she was nowhere to be found.

"Maybe she just doesn't want to intervene with our fates too much and alter the future." Snow offers.

Red narrows her eyes at her fellow brunette. "I thought you didn't even like her."

"She's not my cup of tea and not nearly as sage as her reputation builds her up to be." Snow admits. "But she tries, in her own scatterbrained way, that's got to count for something."

Snow reverts her attention forward, frowning slightly. "Jack, who exactly are you talking about? What is this sorceress' name?"

He looks around warily unsure if he should even be saying the name out loud.

"Rumplestiltskin."

—

Growing up she'd wished more times than she could count for this to one day happen.

(Well, not _exactly _this - burnt to a crisp hands had never been apart of her prayers, even at her lowest point).

A respite from her powers is what she meant. By the time she'd reached puberty she had come to terms with the fact that her powers were here to stay and that nothing could be done about them, but as a child desperate for her freedom and family back, she'd begged to whatever higher power was listening for the ice to go away, even temporarily.

It never worked obviously.

But ten years and one Evil Queen later, here she is. Wish finally granted.

If only it hadn't happened at the worst possible time.

Elsa exhales sharply. She's standing outside for the first time in forever (it's only been a few days she knows) and the night air actually _hurts._ Granted it's not a blinding pain but it's a discomfort nonetheless.

Out here exposed to the elements, she's quickly realizing, her entire body - muscle, bone, and everything in between - feels just as susceptible as her hands constantly do.

So much for the cold never bothering her.

In the back of her mind she knows the smart thing to do is to return to the castle and let her body rest, but she's stubbornly choosing not to. Being cooped up inside all the time was giving her horrible flashbacks to her childhood and she's had more than enough confinement for one lifetime.

Or at least that's the reason she had herself believing. Maybe on some subconscious level she was staying out here as a way of punishing herself for being such a miserable failure.

Elsa shakes her head, quickly shutting out those detrimental thoughts before they can take over. Wallowing in self-pity was pointless; there was no way to change what's already happened.

Lifting her gaze, she peers through the gaps in the canopy of trees overhead and stares at the stars. Meanwhile she listens to the sounds of the night, taking comfort in them.

The forest could be a daunting place to some, especially at this late hour, but not to her. She always saw herself as more of a threat than anything she could ever encounter. Now not so much, being as incapacitated as she was, but still she remained at ease knowing she wasn't truly alone out here.

In that moment, right on cue, she hears a rustling in the foliage, the sound of something moving through the shadows. She turns her head expectantly.

She knew Red would pick up on her presence eventually.

Like her, Red had needed to get out of the castle, the animal within her restless from being stuck inside for so long. (Red wouldn't dare admit to it but it'd been clear as the days passed she was starting to get antsy).

But while Elsa understood the need to keep from going stir crazy, she worried for Red out here. Red was still healing just as much as she was and she feared Red overexerting herself while on her run would only prove detrimental.

Not to mention Red was distant when came back to their room earlier, preoccupied with her thoughts, and Elsa had a feeling something important had transpired while she went talking with the others. She would have asked about it but she knew Red would come talk to her on her own if she wanted.

Now, though, she was kind of regretting her decision not to pry, if only because not knowing was kind of making her uneasy.

Elsa's gaze flits across the endless expanse of trees, searching for the wolf that blended into the night. By the time golden eyes finally appear to her, Red is already stepping out of the shadows.

No doubt about it the wolf was an intimidating beast but being that this wasn't their first encounter, there was no fear on Elsa's part, only awe.

Human or wolf, Red was a captivating beauty that stole her breath away.

With a faint smile Elsa waits for her to make the first move. She knew Red still had some reservations about her wolf self being around others, especially her.

She wasn't sure if Red would take the opportunity to phase back or remain wolf, but secretly she hoped it was the latter. She wanted to better acquaint herself with this side of Red. The last - and only - time she'd been in this position was during the full moon but now that it wasn't, and Red was able to shift as she pleased with her human self closer to the surface, she wanted to help Red like she had helped her, and show her that her wolf wouldn't hurt her.

Tentatively, Red makes her way over to her. Elsa waits patiently. Red stops only when there's about a foot left between them.

Elsa smiles into the expressive lupine eyes that greet her. "Hi, Red." she breathes softly. "How's my girl?"

A disgruntled noise escapes Red as she tosses her head back.

Elsa cocks her head in confusion, unsure of what exactly that response was supposed to translate to. "What—"

Red steps forward, grunting, and gingerly butts her large head against Elsa's shoulder. She does this twice with increasing pressure each time until Elsa is finally forced back a step, and then another.

"I'm not going back to the castle, Red." she says, quickly cottoning on to what her wolf was trying to do.

Meanwhile she tries to hold her ground but finds herself failing - Red was making the task quite difficult with her persistent nudging.

"_Red_." Her tone comes out a half whine, half frustrated laugh.

If Red could talk she'd probably be reminding her that the forest was the last place she should be, especially in the middle of the night and demanding she return to her bedroom to rest right about now. But since she can't, all Elsa gets is grumbling wolf noises.

"You are not the only one who needed to get out, you know." she huffs, prompting Red to stop and lift her head.

And flare her nostrils at her.

Even as a wolf, Red didn't like to be argued with. (Not that that came as a surprise).

"I'm fine, Red." she insists, fighting a laugh.

But, of course, in that same moment the wind picks up and her body steels itself against the cold.

A rumbling sound vibrates through Red's body when she sees this. Right away she stamps her foot - er, paw - down in protest.

"I'm not cold, really." The words aren't nearly as convincing as they should have been, to her dismay.

Which is probably why Red snorts at her, as if to say, "Yeah, _right_".

When Red suddenly turns around and disappears back into the trees, Elsa half expects her to return human so she could properly argue with her.

But she doesn't. She's still wolf when she comes back - only now she has her beloved cloak hanging out of her mouth.

Elsa sighs to herself when Red drops it at her feet, nudging the fabric with her nose. Though she already has her cape, she picks up the cloak - as much as she can without directly using her hands - and manages to shrug it on. "You're sweet."

She can feel Red watching her as she dips her head and breathes in the fabric. As strange as it might seem, being engulfed in Red's scent provided a comfort to her unlike anything else.

Elsa lifts her gaze. "Thank you." she says quietly, feeling a little bashful that Red had caught that.

Red shifts closer and pushes her snout forward, giving her cheek an affectionate nudge. With a smile Elsa returns the favor by placing a soft kiss to her muzzle, effectively coaxing a rumbling noise of content out of the wolf.

"Sit with me?" she requests, after pulling away.

Red releases a snuffling breath which Elsa takes as an okay. She sits down by a nearby tree and watches as Red walks behind her and lays down.

Now with a massive wolf curled around her, Elsa can't help but shake her head to herself.

Her life was so, _so_ not normal.

A fact she's held a quiet resentment toward all her life if she's being honest but as of right now, it was one she didn't mind that much. At all, really.

Tentatively, she leans back and eases some of her weight against Red. She looks back first, making sure she wasn't pushing her wolf toward discomfort. When she sees that Red's fine, she relaxes. The warmth of her all makes her sigh happily.

For awhile she just sits and basks in the heat Red provides her, soaking it all up like a sponge. But as nice as the moment is, it's not able to keep more pressing matters from returning to the forefront of her mind.

Red must have sensed the shift in her demeanor because Elsa suddenly feels her nose prodding her leg, encouraging her to speak her mind.

She hesitates for a second, unsure of how to even begin explaining what was going through her head.

"I don't know what to do, Red."

_There. That just about sums it all up_, she thinks dryly.

"Nothing I seem to do ever turns out in my favor. No matter how conscientious I am, I just can't get it right. _Do right_."

What if she couldn't save her sister?

Elsa stares down at her bandaged hands. Even with her powers she wasn't strong enough to take on the Evil Queen and now...

"I..." Her voice cracks. She clears her throat to start again. "I haven't the slightest idea where we go from here, Red."

Her eyes sting with burgeoning emotion. She exhales shakily. Instinct keeps her from letting herself get too worked up. But still she's prepared to feel the familiar flare up of ice in her veins, knowing it only took a small rise of emotion to set it off.

When that doesn't happen though, she's reminded of the fact that her ice is gone. It leaves her with a heavy feeling she finds difficult to accurately describe.

Elsa turns her head, feeling Red's gaze, and finds her wolf staring at her in concern. She sighs, then shakes her head, trying to get back to what she was saying before. "I just feel like I'm screwed." she sniffs, her eyes still a little misty.

A faint smile plays across her lips as she drops her hand from wiping at her eyes. "Look at me." she glances at Red who cocks her head curiously.

Before Red, the word_ screwed_ wasn't even in her vocabulary.

"I knew if I stayed around you long enough you'd rub off on me." she teases.

And with that remark, Red leans forward and licks her face.

Elsa gasps in surprise. "Red!" Shaking her head, she wipes her cheek against her shoulder, with no working hands to use otherwise. "Some big bad wolf you are." she scoffs.

Golden eyes stare at her in personal affront before Red snorts a warm puff of air right in her face.

Elsa smiles in spite of herself and sweeps her bangs back out of her eyes with her arm. "Huffing and puffing doesn't make you anymore intimidating."

Thankfully she has the foresight to turn her cheek before Red's tongue darts out a second time. Still she makes contact but only briefly. "Keep that up and I'll be forced to believe you're all wolf on the outside but puppy on the inside." she warns.

Red pulls a deadpanned expression that is so uncannily human that Elsa has to laugh.

With a shake of her head, she shifts her body and rests her cheek against Red's fur, nestling her body into the ruff of her neck. Red immediately curls her head even further around her body and pushes her muzzle against her. It isn't long before Elsa finds herself being lulled to sleep by the sound of Red's warmth and her steady heartbeat against her ear.

When she awakens some time later, rather than being surrounding by fur, Elsa finds herself in Red's arms, back in their bedroom.

The room is still dark so it's probably only been a few hours.

Elsa moves around onto her other side carefully, mindful of her hands even in her half-asleep state, and buries her face back in the crook of Red's neck.

"You're not screwed." Red mumbles sleepily, roused by Elsa's shifting body. "We'll find a way." She presses a kiss to her hair. "Like Goldilocks always says the good guys always pull through in the end."

Elsa mumbles a sleepy nonsensical response, well on her way back to dreamland.

That is, until she gets a sharp pinch delivered to her side.

"Ow!" she shrieks.

"That's for calling me a puppy."

—

"Are we sure this is wise?"

To be honest, Red wasn't so sure. Which is probably why she kept walking deeper into the forest, subconsciously wanting to delay things.

"I mean Tiana got screwed over by dark magic and look what happened to her." Rapunzel adds, lifting her leg over a fallen tree trunk.

"I know. I know." she sighs. But she couldn't not do this. "People with dark magic usually spell trouble, yeah, but if you haven't noticed, Blondie, we're kind of out of options. We need help."

And she'd be damned if she didn't at least try and get some.

Rapunzel thinks for a moment. "We could contact my parents. Elsa and Anna are family. An attack on them would give Corona a reason to retaliate against the Evil Queen."

Red looks back at friend skeptically. "Do you really want to bring your parents into this?" she asks not unkindly. "Possibly going up against her?"

When put like that Rapunzel's expression changes regrettably. "What about Merlin?" she offers instead.

Red resists the urge to roll her eyes at the mention of the MIA blonde. "We can't just sit around hoping she'll make another appearance." She stops and turns around. "Look we're not going to do anything rash. We are just going to see if this Rumpleshitskin lady can be useful."

"_Rumplestiltskin_." Rapunzel corrects.

Red waves her off. "Tomato, potato."

Judging by the frown on her face, Rapunzel isn't entirely convinced. "According to Jack she specializes in making deals, Red." she feels the need to remind.

"We're only going to look into it." she sighs. "So relax, okay? I didn't bring you along with me because I plan on trading you for some magic beans."

Rapunzel smiles for a second only to furrow her brow questioningly. "If we're only going to 'look into it' why didn't you tell Elsa about what we were doing?"

"No sense in worrying her for no reason." Red shrugs. "Like I said we're just checking out a possible lead."

Right?

Right.

"And why didn't Snow come with us?" Rapunzel further questions. "You said Jack told both of you about all this—"

"The hobbit's got Wanted posters all over the forest with a high price on her head." she scoffs. "If she came with us and this Rump Roast lady recognized her, she might try and take advantage of that. Besides," she adds less willingly, "She didn't exactly agree with my plan."

Rapunzel just shakes her head. "So nobody knows we're doing this. Great. If this woman turns out to be some kind of old witch in disguise who lures us to her gingerbread house and cooks us in her oven, I'm gonna kick your ass in the afterlife...assuming we end up in the same place."

Red looks back at her and scoffs. "Rapunzel, do me a favor and stop eating right before you go to sleep." She shakes her head to herself. "It makes your mind go to strange places."

Turning away from her friend who merely responds by sticking her tongue out, Red glances around at their surroundings.

When it's decided that this was good a spot as any, she takes in a fortifying breath. Trout Mouth had said all they would have to do was say Rumplestilskin's name three times and she'd appear to them.

Ridiculous sounding, she knows, but considering what a beyond ridiculous world this was, Red wasn't going to waste time arguing its validity.

So without further ado, she says the name loud and clear three times. "Rumplestilskin."

After the third time, she stops and waits with bated breath.

A minute passes.

Nothing.

Red looks back at Rapunzel who seems just as surprised. Confused, she turns back around and continues to wait for something, _anything_ to happen.

"Weird."

"Maybe she's not in."

A disappointed frown settles across Red's face. Well, dammit. She might not have been keen about seeking this woman out but it'd at least been _something_.

Now they were back to square one.

"At least you can say you tried, Red." Rapunzel offers, coming up beside her and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Let's get back to the castle."

"Should've known better than to take anything out of that Grouper's mouth seriously." she mutters.

Red and Rapunzel both turn around to start back toward the castle.

Only to scream.

"God damn." Red rears back with a swear, not expecting someone to be standing _right_ there.

"No need to yell adulation, ladies," the woman before them drawls, "I am well aware of my own perfect beauty. But thanks just the same. It's good for the 'ol ego."

Red's gaze flits up and down the intimidating woman dressed in a blazer and pants. She stands at an impressive height with short, rough blonde hair and merciless blue eyes.

Red wasn't sure what she'd expected out of the woman but it definitely wasn't this. "So I take it you're...?"

"Well you just called out my name three times and only I appeared." Rumplestilskin rolls her eyes. "Who else would I be, Boobs McGee?"

_Wait_. Red looks down at herself briefly. _What?_

She folds her arms self-consciously over her chest.

Her now narrowed gaze settles back on the woman. "Rumplestilskin. What — your parents hate you or something to give you that mouthful?"

Beside her, Rapunzel nudges her ribs, in that _uh, shut up, Red _kind of way.

"Of course not." the older woman scoffs. "Rumplestilskin is a pseudonym. It is a name so renowned I am feared by all throughout the lands."

"Before yesterday I'd never even heard of you." Red scoffs, calling total BS.

"Yeah, me either." Rapunzel has to admit.

Rumplestilskin fixes them both with a penetrating stare. "Well that's because you two are hermits. Weird, interracial, twin hermits who obviously live under rocks."

"I was kidnapped and held captive in a tower for most of my life." Rapunzel frowns. "So I didn't get out much. Or ever."

Red nods in agreement. "And I had tendency to tear people apart so yeah, that kind of killed any chances of a social life growing up."

"Irrelevant and pitiful. You two are well on your way to boring me to exasperation. In exactly two point five seconds I am out of here."

"We summoned you here for a reason." Red reminds, staring at her with mild incredulity.

"Then get on with it." Rumplestilskin sighs. "I've got places to be, people to see, lives to destroy beyond repair."

"Okay, look I, _we_," Red corrects after a look from Rapunzel. "Need help defeating the Evil Queen."

Rumplestilskin doesn't look the least bit interested. "Next."

"Excuse me?"

"I admire a strong powerful woman hell bent making the world a more miserable place. We gals are a dying breed. Like the mighty Chimera." Rumplestilskin notices their blatant staring and sniffs contemptuously. "I wouldn't dare help you."

"Well, okay then."

Red moves to walk away but stops when the older woman reappears right in front of her.

"What's your rush?"

Red's eyes narrow. "You just said you won't help us."

She tries to sidestep out of her way but Rumplestilskin just steps along with her.

"But defeating the Evil Queen can't be the_ only_ thing you need help with."

"Uh, yeah. It is." she scoffs.

"Really? You sure about that? There's absolutely nothing at all, no one you know say in need of some _magical healing_ perhaps." Rumplestilskin throws out semi-casually, side-eyeing her.

Red's gaze hardens. "How do you know about that?"

"I have my sources." Rumplestilskin shrugs vaguely.

"Could you really heal Elsa's hands?" Rapunzel asks before she could stop herself. She cared about her cousin's well being as much as she did, after all.

"Healing people is a rather annoying talent of mine," Rumplestilskin admits before nodding, "But helpful from time to time. So yes to answer your question, I could. I'll show you."

Red looks just looks at her in confusion when she snaps her fingers.

Prompting Rumplestilskin to roll her eyes and heave another sigh. "Check your shoulder, digbat."

Warily, Red pushes down her sleeve and does just that. There was nothing there.

"See?" Rumplestilskin waves hand again, returning Red's faded puncture wound. "You didn't honestly think I'd heal you for free?" she scoffs. "Magic always comes with a price."

Red pushes her sleeve back up. Whatever. "And what would your price be for healing someone?" she wants to know. "Hypothetically?"

"What would you be willing to offer?"

"Anything." The word slips out without her thinking. But it was true, if she was being honest with herself, she'd do just about anything to make Elsa's pain go away.

"I _love_ that word." Rumplestilskin smirks.

"Red." Rapunzel cautions.

Red turns her head, about to tell her to relax, that she wasn't going to make a deal - she's not stupid - but then Rumplestilskin goes and gives her her price.

"Your hair."

She blinks in confusion. "My hair?"

"A strand." Rumplestilskin amends with a slight nod.

"A strand?" she repeats skeptically.

The older woman narrows her eyes, scowling. "What are you a parrot, isn't that what I just said?"

"What do you need my hair for?"

"What do you need of it once it's out of your head?" Rumplestilskin counters.

"For a single strand of my hair you'll heal my friend's hands." Red clarifies, her brow still furrowed distrustfully.

"That's right."

"Just my hair."

Rumplestilskin rolls eyes. "For a non-blonde you sure are dense." She looks around suspiciously. "Must be something in the water."

Red purses her lip together in thought, seriously tempted. "And she would be healed normally? No weird side effects to come later?"

"Not unless you ask. Which I'm hoping you do. It'll make this deal a whole lot more interesting and therefore worthwhile. I could do with a chuckle."

Sensing her reluctance, Rumplestilskin adds as a means of persuasion, "Do what a good girlfriend would do and put your blonde little snowflake's suffering to rest."

Red's gaze snaps forward at that remark. "How the hell do you know so much about us?" she demands.

"My good friend Merlin."

Red and Rapunzel exchange incredulous glances. "Wait, you know Merlin?"

"Isn't that what I just implied?" Rumplestilskin shakes her head in exasperation. "Your stupidity makes me want to slap your mothers or whatever creatures hatched you two idjits."

"How much did she tell you about us?"

"Enough to make me wanna feed you lot to my Venus Flytrap Peggy."

"She didn't happen mention a curse the Evil Queen may or may not be thinking of casting." Rapunzel questions carefully, remembering what Holly - er, Merlin - had accidentally mentioned to them the last time they saw her.

"You two ask too many questions and it's seriously making me consider turning you into a pumpkin - my least favorite of the gourds." She turns to Red impatiently. "Now do we have a deal?"

Red hesitates. _All she wants is a single hair_. She had expected her to want her soul or something, at the very least. One hair and Elsa would be healed. It would be worth the trade for sure but—

"_I'm waiting_."

Red meets her gaze and exhales deeply, her mind made up. "But just as a warning, if you fucking screw me over in anyway or try and make this backfire on us, I will hunt you down and kill you."

"Duly noted." Rumplestilskin nods, unfazed. "Now can you kindly take a step back?" she says, retrieving something from inside her jacket pocket. "Your dog breath is making the toes of my shoes curl up and retract like one of those annoying Oz witches."

Red watches curiously as the older woman pulls out a _long ass_ scroll and feather pen. "Now if you could sign this contract. Sorry I didn't have time to make it up in your native tongue. Bark, bark, and bow wow is not a language I am fluent in."

"What do we need that for?" she inquires, snatching the scroll nonetheless to read it over.

Rumplestilskin rolls her eyes. "It's customary to write up a contract for any and all deals I make." She takes the scroll and pulls it up so Red only had the bottom of the page, where her signature was to go, right in front of her face. "Pay no attention to the fine print."

"Fuck that." Red scoffs, yanking the parchment back down. "I'm reading every fucking word."

Twenty minutes later...

Literally the first paragraph is what their deal entails, a strand of Red's hair for some magic healing courtesy of Rumplestilskin, while subsequent paragraphs are the exact same information re-written in different ways.

Red shakes her head incredulously when she finally reaches the very end, her eyes now burning from all the text reading. "You do realize that the first paragraph is the only part with any relevance to our deal?" she says, annoyed as fuck she'd actually read through all this lady's fucking bullshit.

"Halfway in it turns into your grocery list." Rapunzel adds over her shoulder, having been reading it along with her.

"And not long after that you starting using this for fucking journal entries!" Red exclaims before reading out loud, "_Dear Journal, feeling listless again today_—"

Rumplestilskin snatches the parchment out of her hands. "Well obviously I wasn't expecting anyone to read it all the way through!" she huffs indignantly. "Who even does that? You just sign the bottom and are done with it! Do you know nothing? Idiots, I'm surrounded by idiots."

"Whatever." Red huffs, taking the pen and scribbling her name at the bottom. Once it's signed, she plucks a hair from her head and hands it over, still incredulous.

"Thank you." Rumplestilskin promptly takes it, then once it's safe in a vial she apparently had on her, she waves her fingers carelessly. "Okay. Done."

"That's it?" Red questions skeptically.

Rumplestilskin rolls her eyes, tucking her magically folded scroll back in her pocket. "Well obviously you'll see the results when you see her. Now thank you please don't come again. Ever. I'd rather not risk getting fleas anymore than I've already. I'm probably going to have to burn this jacket." she sniffs.

And just like that, gone.

"I thought we weren't going to make any deals." Rapunzel says once it was just them two again.

Red grudgingly turns around to face her totally judging friend. "If she'd have wanted my soul or like a body part, I would've said hell fucking no. But it was just a strand of hair." she shrugs, but meanwhile seriously hoping she didn't just make a huge ass mistake.

When it came to Elsa maybe she didn't think all that logically. Her emotions were too tied into it. Her wolf only cared about making her better. It wasn't so concerned about the consequences. It liked to act, think later. Which wasn't smart, but who knew if they'd ever get a chance like this again.

Besides, they had to do something.

"Don't act like you would've done it." she huffs, when she notices Rapunzel's prolonged staring.

"I would've at least thought it over some more." Rapunzel frowns. "Asked Elsa what she thought about it considering this involves her."

"Like that old bat would've waited for me to go ask for advice." Red scoffs, starting to walk back again.

Rapunzel follows suit. "Speaking of, what are you going to tell Elsa?"

Now that she really wasn't sure of.

"I have no idea." She turns to the blonde somewhat hopefully. "Do you think she'll believe it if I said werewolf kisses have magical healing properties that just happen to take a few days to kick in?"

Rapunzel just looks at her. "Doubt it."

—

Just when she thinks she can't possibly be in for any more surprises, _this_ happens.

Elsa hastens her pace down the hallway corridors, maneuvering her way toward the castle grounds.

With the way Red has been acting there was no way this was all coincidence. She should have known better than to keep ignoring her instinct to look into it. She'd just wanted Red to come to her with whatever it was she was dealing with of her own will. Of course she still trusted that she had a good reason for hiding whatever it was, but now it was time her wolf explained herself.

It takes her a while to make the trek through Arthur's maze of a castle, but ultimately the timing works out perfectly. Just as she's making her way toward the forest, the girl she's been searching for was making her way out.

"Red!"

The brunette stops short, as does Rapunzel who's right on her heels and as a result bumps into her back. The wide-eyed looks on their faces say it all, leading Elsa to confirm that they did have something to do with her sudden situation.

"Elsa, hey." Red awkwardly greets back once she's recovered from the mild start. "Are you okay?"

"No less than than thirty minutes ago," she starts, pulling her gloves off one at a time, "Bellamy had gone up to the room to help me change my bandages, only to get the surprise of his life when he pulled away the cloth and saw that my hands were no longer a charred, blistering mess." She lifts up her bare hands as a point and wiggles perfectly healed fingers.

"Now I know you know something about this otherwise I think you'd be a little more shocked. I mean poor Bellamy just about fainted." And if anything Red just looked relieved. "So if you could enlighten me as to what is going on, _please?_"

Red shifts her stance awkwardly. "You're healed, isn't that what really matters?"

"_Red_." she says sternly, brow raised. Was she really going to try and play this off?

"Fine." Red rolls her eyes, sighing, "I made a deal."

Elsa's brow furrows in confusion. Her gaze flickers between the two girls. "What? A deal with who?"

"Someone with magic." Red answers vaguely, making Elsa's eyes narrow. "Someone who could help. Who _did _help."

"Jack suggested her." adds Rapunzel.

"I'd like a name please." she maintains, still looking at Red.

"I doubt you've heard of her."

"Red, I have a right to know _whose_ magic did this." she says, starting to get annoyed. It was unlike Red to be so difficult, or at least with her.

"Rumplestilskin." Red relents after a moment. Before she can inquire as to who that even was, Red interjects, continuing, "Look before you freak out, don't. She's not a threat to us. Or at least I don't think. I mean, she's kind of a nut but not like an Evil Queen nut."

Elsa raises her brow. "And that's supposed to reassure me?"

"Well, yeah." Red answers lamely.

"So let me get this straight," she starts out slowly, needing to process it out loud. "You made a deal with this Rumple person who has magic—"

"Dark magic." Rapunzel adds under her breath, prompting Red to shoot her a wide-eyed look over her shoulder.

"Dark magic." she repeats stoically, unable to believe what she was hearing. "So dark magic did this."

"Magic's magic isn't it?" Red questions, obviously slightly unnerved by the incredulous look she was being given. "It's the intent that makes it dark or light, right? Rumplestilskin used her powers to heal you, so she used her powers for good. Which is...good, right? It's okay."

Elsa can only shake her head at her, not willing to get sidetracked by a magic discussion - though to be honest she herself didn't know quite how this whole magic thing worked either. Before leaving Arendelle she thought she was the only one with magic.

"You said you made a deal with her. What did you have to give her in return?"

When Red doesn't answer right away, panic settles in her chest. "Tell me you didn't do something stupid." she pleads after a silent groan. "That you didn't give away the rights to your first born or sell yourself in any way."

"I didn't do any of that relax." Red smiles in spite of herself. "She just wanted a strand of my hair. It's _no_ big deal—"

"Your hair?" Elsa frowns, unsure if she heard right. "What — why?"

"Dunno." Red shrugs. "She wouldn't tell us."

"What could she possibly want with your hair?"

"To clone me." Red jokes. "And make the world sexier one Red at a time."

"You joke but what if she wants to do just that? Use your DNA to magically make more werewolves?"

Red snorts at the very idea. "You can't just bottle up what I am and make more wolves. If you could, I'd have found a way myself and made me my own army of wolf servants so they could build me a dope ass castle with a moat and have fresh bread at my beck and call."

Elsa shakes her head, for once not enjoying her girlfriend's tendency to joke. "Red be serious."

"Look, I did it for you." Red reminds with some exasperation. "You needed to be healed. With burns like what you had who knows if you'd have even been able to ever use your hands again. Can't you just say thank you and show some gratitude with your awesome snowflake kisses?"

Elsa exhales deeply, feeling multiple emotions at once. Red could have put both her and Rapunzel's lives in danger by approaching this Rumplestilskin woman, for which she severely wanted to reprimand her for, but at the same time part of her was touched by the lengths Red would go for her, even if it scared her a little too.

Scared her_ a lot_, actually.

"Red, I am appreciative. Truly. But you have to understand, acting on impulse is what got me in this mess in the first place—"

"I didn't act on impulse." Red immediately denies.

Rapunzel shoots her a side-long look. "Uh yeah, you did."

"I made an informed decision." Red maintains grumpily, giving Rapunzel a mild glare in return. "Sorry but not sorry if my desire to heal my girlfriend won out above everything else." She shifts back to Elsa. "I mean you're fine aren't you?" Her expression falters less confidently. "Right?"

"There's no pain if that's what you mean." Elsa confirms, her gaze dropping to her hands again, still in awe in spite of everything.

"And the ice?"

She hesitates for a moment. "Still gone."

Rapunzel steps closer and takes her hand. "You still feel cool to me." she frowns. Then concedes, "Though it does feel a little different."

"Well, have you given it a try?" Red asks, waving her hands in manner what Elsa assumes is an impression of her doing magic.

"I don't have to." she says with a small sigh. "The void is still there."

"Maybe the internal healing just takes a little longer than the actual physical healing." Rapunzel reasons. "Even with magic."

"Whatever the reason," Elsa's gaze settles back on Red. "Please don't do that again."

Red quirks her brow. "Heal you?"

She shakes her head, leaning forward and placing a hand on her cheek. "Make a decision concerning me without talking to me about it first."

Red nods in understanding.

"So is this temporary?" she asks in regard to her hands, slowly pulling away from Red. She knows better than to get her hopes up, especially about something that seemed too good to be true.

"It better not be." Red scoffs. "I'll kick her ass to the end of the realm and back if she—"

"I want to meet her."

Elsa surprises herself with the interruption.

Red stops short too, caught off guard by the statement. "What?" She exchanges confused looks with Rapunzel. "Why?"

"Because I want to thank her. But mostly because I need answers." Whether or not she'll get them, she doesn't know. But if this Rumplestilskin woman is powerful enough to reverse the Evil Queen's magic, it's within the realm of possibility.

"I already asked about defeating the Evil Queen." Red says with dismay. "And she can't - or rather she_ won't_ help us do anything about it."

Elsa shakes her head. "This isn't about her."

—

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Red asks her sometime later, checking for what feels like the umpteenth time. "I mean the only way you're gonna get answers out of her, if she has them, is if you make a deal with her."

They're standing in the middle of the forest now, in the exact spot Red and Rapunzel had summoned Rumplestilskin before.

"Yeah," Rapunzel voices with the same uncertainty. "Red lucked out. But she might actually want something worthwhile from you." she points out. "Like your kingdom."

"Or your insanely awesome girlfriend."

Elsa shoots her a look but Red just shrugs it off. "She can't force me to make a deal with her." she patiently replies. "If I don't agree to her terms, I can say no."

"What changed your mind?" Red asks curiously. "I mean one second you're freaking out we even went to her in the first place and now you're all but dragging us here by our ears to meet her."

"My hands may be healed but we are far from our troubles being over." she sighs. "And as much as I'd rather not do this, we have no one else to turn to right now."

_Desperate times call for desperate measures._

"Okay then. Just say _Rumplestilskin_ three times." Red directs, flanking Elsa's shoulder with Rapunzel on the other side.

With a nod, Elsa steels herself and does just that.

After, they wait for a moment.

"Give it a minute." Red says when it doesn't seem to have worked. "She's old as time itself. Or so she looks. Probably why she takes so damn long."

"That or she just likes to draw out the anticipation."

Elsa jumps at the sudden voice behind her and spins around.

"You two again." Rumplestilskin sneers, her withering gaze automatically locking on Red and Rapunzel. "Did you ditzy bitsies partake in a headbutting contest to win the hand of Winter Wonderbabe here after I left and forget you already summoned me? I'd make you slap yourselves with chicken cutlets but I'm afraid you wouldn't be able to function without the missing brain cells. Especially you." she says, narrowing sharpened eyes at Rapunzel.

"Actually I summoned you, Madam." Elsa politely interjects, directing her gaze away from Red and Rapunzel's incredulous (and offended) glances.

Her posture straightens under the impenetrable gaze of the six foot tall woman now staring her down.

"My friends tells me you're the one who healed me," she continues, (and all the while mentally sighing in relief that her voice had come out steady and calm). "And I'd just like to thank you for that."

"Don't thank me, Wintergreen. Giving thanks is for the weak. Now enlighten me as to why I'm back here again so I can leave as quickly as possible." Rumplestilskin looks around, grimacing at their surroundings. "I can hardly breathe the air out here is so fresh." She sniffs in disdain. "Not to mention there's a brook somewhere that won't stop babbling. Very annoying. It makes me want to punch whatever wildlife that happens across my path in the face. Which, as luck would have it, would be you three."

Blinking, Elsa turns to her girlfriend but Red just gives a look that basically translates to "Go with it".

_Okay_.

Elsa shakes her head briefly before asking, "Do you know the Evil Queen?"

Rumplestilskin regards her with a suspiciously raised chin, unsure of what she was trying to get at. "We've...crossed paths once or twice." she responds vaguely.

"Yes well she took my sister Anna from me. I tried to retrieve her but failed."

"If you're looking to me to could bring back your magic," Rumplestilskin boredly interjects. "You're out of luck. I can't help you with that."

"No, I'm not -" Her words falter for a moment, part of her surprised the woman even knew about her magic problems. "That's not what I'm here to ask."

Rumplestilskin tilts her head curiously. "Why because you're glad your powers are gone?"

"What? Of course not." she frowns, her voice rising defensively.

Rumplestilskin just looks at her and nods. "I had a sister taken from me." she says, a distant expression overtaking her face.

Elsa blinks, not expecting that admission. "Did you get her back?"

Rumplestilskin grimaces. "Not yet."

"Well I wish you well in your endeavor." she nods with sincerity. "I hope you find her. And have better luck than I currently am."

"I'll tell you what." Rumplestilskin begins after a moment of contemplation. "Let's make a deal."

While Elsa had been waiting for this part, she hadn't expected it soon. She hadn't even gotten to what she wanted help with. "For what?"

"You're out of options." Rumplestilskin answers easily enough. "Which is why you've come to me, obviously. But fear not, Jackie Frost. I have the information you seek: Your sister's whereabouts."

Elsa's breath catches helplessly. "You know where she is?"

"If you dare fucking say she's with the Evil Queen, we already knew that." Red cuts in, glaring at the older woman in warning.

Rumplestilskin continues as if she didn't notice the interruption. "More like I know someone, an associate if you will, who knows where your baby sis is."

Elsa's eyes narrow warily. "Who is your associate?"

"An unofficial sidekick, as it were. Mighty useful." Rumplestilskin waves a glib hand before snapping her fingers. "Bo Peep!" she commands.

"Bo Peep?" Red repeats incredulously, prompting Elsa to look back at her in confusion.

"Who's Bo Peep?"

"Brutal warlord from what I've heard." Red supplies with a kind of disbelieving frown.

Just then, out of nowhere, a short blonde with glasses appears at Rumplestilskin's side. The young girl is dressed head to toe in frills - unhappily so, it seemed (her scowl could rival Rumplestilskin's) - with a matching hoop skirt and bonnet, wielding a shepherd's crook in her right hand.

Elsa can't help but raise her brow. "She's a brutal warlord?" she says without thinking. "But she's so small."

"Bite me, ice queen." Bo Peep snaps, actually baring her teeth at her.

Elsa rears back instinctively. _Vicious little thing. _

Rumplestilskin rests a placating hand on Bo's shoulder. "You see, I had Bo here brand your sweet sister with her shepherd's crook while she was enroute to the Evil Queen's castle—"

Elsa shakes her head needing her to back up a couple steps. "Excuse me, _brand_ her?"

"In a manner of speaking." Rumplestilskin explains with an eye roll, exasperated by the interruption. "The crook is magic. Anyone she brands is one of her 'sheep'. It's how she finds her flock."

"And how I keep tabs on the people who owe me money, bitch." Bo Peep nods.

"Wait, why would you brand my sister?" she asks in bewilderment, still in the midst of trying to process everything. "You didn't even know about us before—"

"I had a feeling it would come in useful." Rumplestilskin shrugs.

"She knows Merlin." Red explains, rolling her eyes. "Though why the hell she has such interest in our futures, I'd like to know." she says, with her arms crossed expectantly.

Elsa turns her attention back to Rumplestilskin. "So you knew we'd come to you for help." she realizes.

"Precisely."

"Am I here for a reason or did you bring me here just to look hot?" Bo questions loudly, annoyed that she was being ignored.

"Sorry, Bo." Rumplestilskin apologizes. "I need you to find a Princess Anna of Arendelle for us. That is," She looks back at Elsa with a dark smile. "If her majesty agrees to our deal."

"That's what you asked me here for?" Bo complains.

"What is it exactly that you would want in return?" Elsa asks warily, steeling herself for the price. She expected something drastic, something she would likely never be able to agree to.

"The same thing I asked of your little she-wolf." Rumplestilskin divulges, glancing back at Red.

Elsa blinks in stunted disbelief.

"Okay why the hell do you need her hair _and_ mine?" Red demands, stepping forward.

"That is my business and my business alone, you inflamed talking chihuahua." Rumplestilskin calmly sneers.

"How do I know you won't just tell me what I want to hear?" Elsa questions, while Rapunzel pulls Red back before she could do - or say - something she shouldn't. "How do I know you're not just working for the Evil Queen, looking—"

"Rumplestilskin works for no one." The older woman interjects with a scathing glance. "As for that other nonsensical mumbo jumbo you're whining about, you won't know until you make the deal. But keep in mind that right now you don't even have a vague idea where the Evil Queen put your sis and here I am with a direct location," she says, punctuating her words with a loving pat to Bo Peep's head.

"Why would you want to help me anyways?" Elsa wonders, trying and failing to figure out her motive. She knew she had to have one.

"What can I say," Rumplestilskin shrugs. "I'm sympathetic to the plight of sisters. Also you remind me of a young me. Though you don't have my bone structure."

Elsa isn't buying it. "Yes, but there's got to be more to it than that."

"And you would be correct with that assumption." Rumplestilskin freely admits. "Everything I do is ultimately to serve my own purpose. And if I happen to bring others happiness in the process, well then that's just unfortunate."

"Just take the deal." Bo whines. "I've got a croquet game to get too."

"Bo is right to vent her frustration." Rumplestilskin nods. "My patience, too, is beginning to wear thin. In fact, I'm not so sure I want to make a deal anymore." she says, turning her head in mock disinterest.

Elsa quirks her brow, seeing right through the elder blonde. "You just said everything you do is to serve your own purpose. You _want_ me to make a deal otherwise you wouldn't be bothering with it," Rumplestilskin merely maintains an indifferent expression. "But there has to be some kind of consequence to making deals with you. Why else would you be as feared as you supposedly are?"

Rumplestilskin raises her shoulders, keeping her gaze elsewhere. "People fear what they don't understand. You know that better than anyone, don't you Winterfresh?"

She had her there. Sighing to herself, Elsa reluctantly plucks a single hair from her head. _This was for Anna_. "You tell me my sister Anna's _exact_ location and I will give you a strand of my hair." she stipulates, her hand extended.

"Deal." Rumplestilskin gladly takes her hair and tucks it away in a clear vial for safe keeping. "Bo." she prompts.

With a roll of her eyes, Bo stamps her shepherd's crook in the ground and a wave magic appears through the curvature of the hook. Whatever scene Bo could see through the window of magic was of no interest to her. "Your sister is in Arendelle." she informs in a bored tone.

"What?" Elsa frowns deeply. "No she isn't."

"Uh, yes she is." Bo affirms with a loud scoff. "She's there now with the new king."

"New king?" Red repeats at the same time Rapunzel does, looking at each other in bewilderment.

"That's—" She's about to say 'impossible', but then it hits her.

Boy does it hit her.

"Hans."

Elsa nods to herself, releasing short, humorless laugh. "The Evil Queen gave my sister to Hans."

_Of course she did._

How did she not see that coming?

—

"Wait, why would she give your sister to him?"

"Because somehow she knew that he was the one person I couldn't stand having Anna around more than the queen herself." Elsa responds, pacing back and forth along side Arthur's round table. Everyone was gathered around with her, having assembled not long after she, Red, and Rapunzel returned from the forest.

"He's that bad?" Mulan questions, her brow furrowed.

"Yes." she answers without pause. "But then again, maybe that's just the assassination attempt talking."

"How the hell can we trust anything this Rumplefartskin lady says?" Robin demands, his arms crossed over his chest. "For all we know she just staged all this to get you running back to Arendelle."

"We can't." she sighs, reluctantly stopping her pacing. "But it's something to go on and I can't just ignore it. Look," She turns toward them. "I don't expect you to come with me. What you all have done for me is more than I could have asked for and I will be forever in your debt. I can handle Hans just fine on my own. Powers or no powers."

"But if Hans knows the Evil Queen in some way," Tiana reminds. "There's no telling what he could have planned, girl."

"A big fat trap with your name on it, that's what." Jack answers, standing with Tiana perched on his shoulder.

"Especially if he knows the queen took your powers." Shang agrees. "He'll want to exploit that."

"Elsa is more than her powers." Red speaks up, meanwhile slipping her hand in Elsa's. "We can handle it."

Robin nods in agreement. "Besides, who needs ice when she has us." He looks over his shoulder at the others. "Right?"

Elsa shakes her head at them all when they voice their support. "I don't want you risking your lives anymore than you already have." They'd been fortunate the first time around, but chancing it a second time, especially if the Evil Queen was indeed still involved, sounded like they might be pushing their luck.

"We'll say what's enough." John replies. "No offense your m-majesty." he quickly backtracks, shrinking under the withering glare Red shoots him across the table.

"We told you we'd help you get your sister back." Robin continues, stepping up. "I may be a thief but I honor to my word."

Snow echoes the sentiment. "I always start what I finish." she nods.

"I can have a ship ready first thing in the morning." Arthur offers from his chair. "And whatever supplies you need."

Looking around at their resolute faces, Elsa can see there's no changing their mind. She shakes her head to herself, a resigned sigh escaping her. "Thank you." she says nonetheless.

"Okay, gang." Snow claps her hands loudly, taking the opportunity to shift back into leader-mode. (Elsa only allows it because simply letting the sometimes overbearing princess be in control was so much less of a headache than trying to get her to relinquish it). "We have much to do. What are you all standing around for? Get a move on!"

"You will make a fine dictator one day, Snow." Rapunzel comments over her shoulder, rolling her eyes as the smaller brunette shoos them to action.

"She's sure got the facial hair for it." Red quips. "What?" she shrugs at Snow's incredulous glance. "Your mustache is thicker than a Middle Eastern Dictator."

Shaking her head at her girlfriend's _lovely_ sense of humor, Elsa exchanges a knowing glance with Snow before they both give her an admonishing slap in the arm.

"Ow!" Red yelps dramatically. "It was only a joke, jeez. You know what? I don't like either one of you anymore. No. Me. Gusta."

—

Elsa sits perched on the edge of the small bed, her gaze concentrated across the way from her. There's a desk with a glass of water on top of it. She's been trying to get back in touch with her powers, tap into whatever fleck of magic she had left, _if that_, for who knows how long now but her focus is not what it should be. The gentle sway of the ship keeps distracting her. She's unused to the constant motion having never traveled by sea before.

But it isn't seasickness that has her concerned. It's the general association she has with boats and the ocean. It was only a few years ago that her parents left for sea. Two weeks, they'd said.

_"Do you have to go?"_

_"You'll be fine, Elsa."_

And then one storm changed everything.

Elsa shuts her eyes, feeling the familiar surge of emotion that comes from painful memories. But just as quickly she pushes away thoughts of the funeral she couldn't attend, of shutting out Anna when she most needed — _they_ most needed each other.

She exhales deeply.

Then, with open eyes, refocuses her gaze on the glass in front of her. She outstretches her hand toward it once more. Summoning the ice used to be so natural. Easy as breathing. Hell, most of the time she didn't even have to summon it for it to manifest itself.

Now, well, things were obviously different.

Frustrating.

"Any luck?"

Elsa just about jumps out of her skin at the sudden voice. She relaxes when she sees it's just Red standing in the cabin doorway.

"No."

Red uncrosses her arms, pushing away from the wall she'd been leaning against. "It'll come to you eventually." Elsa smiles faintly as she comes around to join her on the bed. "Your powers don't just evaporate because of a little heat...even if that's technically what happens when you expose ice to heat for long enough." the brunette says as an afterthought. "I mean, your magic has been with you from birth. It's apart of you. Nothing can undo that bond."

"Like you and your wolf."

Red nods. "Yeah. Like if I'm exposed to enough silver, it won't kill just the wolf. It'll kill me too. We're one in the same."

Elsa worries her bottom lip in thought, a little unsure. "If you could get rid of the wolf, would you?" she eventually asks, turning her head. "Not that I would ever want you to." she makes sure to clarify. She was just curious to know if their roles were reversed, and Red had her wolf abilities taken away, would she try to get them back?

"If I'd been asked that growing up I'd have said yes in a heartbeat." Red confesses with a small smile.

"But now?"

"All that I am is because of what I've had to overcome with the wolf." she answers simply. "Without it, I wouldn't be me. I'd just be a not nearly as badass, way less interesting, mindless version of myself." Elsa smiles at the way Red's nose scrunches up at the very idea.

"To be honest," Red continues. "The thought of living without the wolf is scarier to me now that living with it, you know?"

Elsa nods slightly, understanding. "What Rumplestilskin said yesterday," she begins after a moment of silent debate. "About me being glad my powers gone?" Red flashes her an encouraging smile. "I think she's right."

She ducks her head, fiddling with her hands in her lap, elaborating, "I think the reason I can't call the ice is because there's a part of me that just doesn't want my powers back."

"That's understandable." Red shrugs. Elsa looks up, noticing her gaze drift to the water glass on the table and back again. "You do know you're under no obligation to get your powers back if you don't want them back, right?" Red questions carefully, to which she nods.

"I know. I just..." she trails off, staring down at her hands again. "I know I said that I could take care of Hans even without my powers, but now I'm not so sure."

"There's more to it than that." Red senses, and aptly so. She wasn't just concerned about defeating Hans.

"Part of me doesn't want my powers but another part of me does." she nods quietly, before unwilling to admit it true. "And as much as I hate to admit it, I'm hurting without them."

"And why don't you want to admit it?"

"Because I don't want to want my powers." she sighs out in frustration. " I mean they have given me more grief than anything. I shouldn't be stuck with this insufferable void in my chest. Not after everything it's put me through. I should be feeling relief, _happiness_ that it's finally gone."

"Beating yourself up for not feeling a certain way isn't going to change anything." Red murmurs, dropping a kiss to her shoulder, then resting her chin there.

"I know." she sighs, resigned, as she leans her head against hers. "I just don't like it when I'm not rational."

Red laughs softly. "Who does?"

Just then the ship gives a violent lurch, making Elsa lift her head in a panic. "What was that?"

"It's nothing." Red places a reassuring hand on the small of her back. "Boats do that sometime."

Elsa can't help her doubtful expression.

"Relax." Red smiles gently. "The captain said it would be smooth sailing to Arendelle."

"When it comes to the weather there are no guarantees." she murmurs, immediately thinking back to her parents.

"Even if something were to happen," Red prefaces, before reaching around her to knock on the nearest wooden surface. "Which it won't because my psychic third eye says so," Elsa smiles in spite of herself. "But if worst came to worst anyways, don't worry 'cause I know how to swim and —"

"Yes, I'm sure you have the doggy paddle perfected by now." she can't help but tease. Her smile broadens helplessly at the way Red's eyes narrow in return and she squeaks a laugh when the brunette lightly pushes her back on the bed.

"That's rich coming from someone who can't even swim." Red teases right back before starting her merciless torture.

"Red!" Her body squirms uncontrollably as nimble fingers attack her from both sides. Something Red thoroughly enjoys judging by her gleaming dimpled smile.

"Mean." is all she she can muster, minutes later, when Red_ finally_ offers her respite.

Red just smiles that smug, but incredibly adorable, smile she gets whenever she's successfully gotten her all flustered. "Seriously though," she says, sitting back on her haunches, "When this is all over and done with I'll teach you. You'll be a regular snow guppy when I'm done with you."

Elsa finds herself beaming at the prospect. Not the learning how to swim part - more so the normalcy of it all. Spending her life, after all this madness is over, with Red. _That's_ what she's really looking forward to. "Promise?"

Red leans down and pecks her lips. "Promise. But just so you know," She pulls back with a saucy smile. "Swimming is a clothing optional activity."

Elsa chuckles softly. "Maybe with _you_ it is." she says, promptly pushing her away.

Red falls back on the bed beside her, laughing along with her.

Once the laughter subsides and they've calmed down, Elsa looks over at her and requests, "Tell me something I don't know about you."

Red meets her gaze with a curious smile. "Like what?"

"I don't know." she shrugs. "Anything."

Red thinks about it for a moment. "Well, I can sing. Does that count?"

Elsa arches her brow, intrigued, but again can't help herself when she teases, "Do you mean really sing or sing like a dog when it's howling?" She barely gets out the question straight-faced, cracking up at the end at Red's expression.

Red shifts on her side with a fond roll of her eyes. "You're just full of dog jokes today, aren't ya snowflake?" she murmurs, leaning forward and delivering a lip smacking kiss to her cheek anyways.

She merely hums happily in response.

"My turn." Red prompts, propping her head up with her hand. "What don't I know about you?"

Elsa looks back at her with a smile. "You know everything."

"That can't be true."

"But you do." she insists with a gentle chuckle. "You know literally everything. All about my family, my fears, my favorite food..."

She raises her hand unthinkingly and tucks a strand of hair behind Red's ear for her.

Red's smile broadens when her touch lingers, her fingers sliding down to brush across her cheek.

Her brow furrows curiously though, noticing the brunette's expression. "What?"

"Not that I'm complaining but you're a lot more touchy feely now that...well...you know." Red nods into the hand still cupping her face.

"It's easier now that the ice is gone." she confesses, her thumb ghosting over the indentation where Red's dimple is. "Nothing to hold me back."

"The ice doesn't hold you back." Red gently reminds with a pointed stare. "You do."

"Because I let it." Elsa sighs knowingly, maybe even sheepishly. "I know. Something I will continue working on should my powers ever come back."

Smiling, Red leans forward, forcing Elsa onto her back, and presses her lips to hers. As Red re-situates herself above her, Elsa keeps her hand on her cheek to ensure the exchange lasts a little longer than a simple peck's worth this time.

They kiss for a short while; nothing too hot or heavy but definitely with a growing level of affection they were eager to explore. When they feel like it's enough (and the amount of air in their lungs wasn't), they part with satisfied smiles and Red rolls onto her back again.

"Random question time." she declares shortly after, making Elsa giggle.

"Okay."

Red props her head back up with her hand, body angled toward her. But this time she keeps her other arm casually draped across Elsa's stomach. "If you could be any animal what would you be?"

Elsa steals a sidelong glance at her. "That is a random question." she laughs.

"Hence the name." Red smiles cheekily.

Elsa looks at her with a smile, already with a response in mind, but turns away bashfully at the last second.

"What?" Red grins.

"If I said my answer you'd think it was just because of you."

Red quirks her brow in surprise. "A wolf, really?" A smug grin quickly spreads across her face, making Elsa silently groan. "You know I already like you, snowflake. No need to try and butter me up even more. Not that I'm complaining."

Elsa just shakes her head.

"But seriously?"

She looks back at Red and nods. "I've always liked them." She then elaborates, "There's a pack that live up in the mountains of Arendelle. After my parents separated Anna and I into our own bedrooms, I'd always hear them outside. Since the cold never bothered me I'd keep the window open a crack and listen to them howl at night. Knowing they were out there, kind of made me feel less alone."

A feeling that carried over throughout the years, especially after her coronation when she'd ran away to the North Mountain. It had happened by chance of course, the encounter she'd had. The one time she'd left the security of her ice castle she'd found the pack of wolves not too far from the grounds.

Or rather they found her.

She remembers lying in the snow, contemplating her newfound freedom, when she'd heard this rustling noise not too far from where she was. It had snapped her out of her thoughts almost immediately. She'd pushed herself upright and looked around, stomach ill at ease that it was someone coming to hurt her, the cursed queen, or even worse, someone coming to bring her back to Arendelle.

But it hadn't been any person, instead two wolf pups. They'd been completely oblivious to her presence, busy rolling around and snapping away at the light snowfall her preoccupied mind had unwittingly created.

Elsa watched them play. They were the first ones since Anna to seem to get an enjoyment out of her powers. She could practically hear her little sister clap, _"Do the magic, Elsa! Do the magic!" _as if she was seven years old again.

Caught up in the memory, she didn't even realize the young wolves had begun to sniff their way over to her until she felt a tickle against her fingers. She looked down at her right hand pressed into the snow and found two bold pups nosing at her skin.

Despite her wariness - after all where there are babies, there are almost always mothers nearby - she had turned her hand over at their insistence and let them both sniff her open palm. By the way their cold noses and pink tongues had prodded her skin, she couldn't help but get the impression they could sense that her hand was where all this snow had come from.

"That's weird." Red comments, pulling her from the memory. "Wolves don't usually approach humans like that. They tend to want to stay as far away from them as possible."

Elsa nods in agreement. She'd always been told that wolves were more scared of people than people were of them. "I figured it was just because they were so young, they didn't know any better."

"Wolves are good at picking up things others can't. They must've sensed you were a pretty lone wolf in need of a pack." Red smiles, dropping a kiss to her shoulder.

A short laugh escapes Elsa. "Yes I'm sure that was it." She shakes her head at the very idea.

"Hmm. So that's why I was so drawn to you." Red later muses as an afterthought, realizing, "You were a wolf girl long before you met me." Grinning, she leans in and presses a quick kiss to her lips. "No wonder you're so good with my wolf."

Elsa cocks her head, brow lightly furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"You're not scared of it." Red replies. "I never smell fear when I'm wolfed out around you. Not even during those times you were around me on the full moon."

"It's just you, Red." she gently shrugs. "With more hair."

Red snorts a laugh, prompting Elsa to continue, with fingers combing through her hair, "It doesn't matter what form you're in, full moon or not, I know you'd never hurt me."

Red's quiet for a moment as she takes that in. "Thank you for trusting me." she says with soft eyes and a smile to match (sending Elsa's heart a flutter). "_Us, _I mean." she corrects herself.

"You make it easy." she smiles tenderly. "Loving you in general, really."

The words come out before she can even realize what she'd just implied. It's only a second later when Red's blank staring registers that everything else does at once too.

Being that they haven't been 'together' long, or known each other for much longer than that, she's pretty sure she's just thrown Red for a major loop.

And just like that her smile fades.

There's a slight crack in Red's voice as she repeats, "Loving me?"

Hearing the uncertainty in the other girl's tone just confirmed her fear that it was way too soon to be talking about this.

"Uh..."

"You love me?" Red gently presses against her silence, needing some kind of response.

"Yeah." she lets out timidly. There was no use trying to deny it - Red would see right through her. She swallows thickly as Red seemed to process this information. "It's okay if you don't too. I mean we only just started this, this thing we have, it's completely understandable, I won't hold it against you if—"

Red sits upright suddenly, then throws a leg over her to straddle her legs, effectively derailing her train of thought.

"You really think I don't love you too?" Red questions, her brow raised in an amused but still kind of insulted way. "You're crazy."

"About you." she says, flashing what she hopes is a sweet, forgivable smile. Meanwhile her heart is liable to burst from happiness. _Red loved her too!  
_

Red rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but grinning all the while. "Cornball."

Elsa gapes at her in mock offense, then fires back just as easily, "_Furball_."

"A furball you love." Red teases, leaning in for a kiss.

"A furball I love." she echoes affirmatively with a small laugh.

Red smiles impossibly wide at that and quickly reunites their lips. "I fuckin' love you too, snowflake."

Elsa raises a hand and tangles her fingers in brunette locks, meeting Red's enthusiasm and kissing her deeply. "I love you." she whispers in between kisses, enjoying the way the words felt on her tongue and sounded to her ears. She would be saying them to Red every time she felt like, that she knew for certain.

"Good luck getting rid of me now." Red jokes after the oxygen deprivation wins out, forcing them apart.

Elsa's eyes flutter open in a daze and she shakes her head up at her smilingly. "Never."

"I'm sorry about making that deal with Rumplestilskin, you know." Red brings up, her hand sliding up to cover the hand Elsa had on her cheek. "I didn't mean to overstep. Seeing you hurt made me feel so damn useless. I guess I kinda jumped at first chance I got to help you. I know I should've told you about it instead of making the decision on my own."

"It's okay, Red." she smiles faintly. "I understand. You just scared me. I don't want you going and putting yourself in harm's way just for me. Well, even more so than you already have."

"At least now we know we don't have to worry." Red says lightly. "That old battle-axe is all bark and no bite."

"Maybe." Elsa concedes. "But if I wake up one morning to find my hands have turned into lobster claws, you, my wolf, are done for."

Red laughs as Elsa takes her face in both hands and kisses both her cheeks. "Even if they do, it'll just add to your charm." she shrugs. "No big deal."

Her eyes fit to the ceiling. "No big deal she says."

"Hey." Grinning, Red taps her cheek for another kiss. "Uno más, por favor."

Shaking her head to herself, Elsa slides her hands down to her girlfriend's shoulders and pushes with all her strength to flip their positions.

"Well excuse you, snowflake." Red says in genuine surprise, hands flying to her waist. "If you'd wanted me under you, you could've just said so."

Elsa opens her mouth to respond but before she can, the cabin door creaks open with barely a knock to give them a head's up. She scrambles off Red promptly just as Rapunzel makes herself known, casually walking through the doorway.

"Hey." Rapunzel greets. "You guys have been down here for a while and I've been ordered by Snow to make sure you two didn't accidentally pass out from a lack of oxygen while sucking face with each other." she explains before either one of them could ask her to.

"Snow said that?" Red questions skeptically as she pushes herself upright.

"No." Rapunzel admits. "Snow wanted to make sure Elsa's powers didn't suddenly come back full force and accidentally trap you both down here in a ice blizzard of doom. But I figured my scenario was way more likely. So yeah." she shrugs. "I can see that I was right." she beams.

Elsa feels a blush creep along her cheeks as her head ducks in embarrassment. "We weren't _just_ kissing down here." she mumbles.

"Yeah, just you know, confessing our love for each other." Red says casually, a slight smirk on her face. "No big deal."

Rapunzel raises her brow at first before scoffing out loud. "Well it took you guys long enough." she says, before a pleased grin settles across her features. "I can't wait to tell the others and collect my payment."

"Payment?" Elsa can't help but question.

"The others and I made a bet to see how long it would take for you two to say _I love you_." Rapunzel nods.

Red and Elsa exchange similar disbelieving glances. "And how long has this been going on?" the former wants to know.

"Since Camelot." Rapunzel replies. "What? We had to entertain ourselves somehow in between rescue planning. Tiana started it." she shrugs innocently. "We all thought for sure Elsa's accident would've made you two fess up but _apparently not_." she says with a slight huff. "But anyways when that was the case everyone else said you guys wouldn't until after Elsa got her sister back."

"So what made you think we'd tell each other sooner?" Red wonders.

"You two are so loved up I figured it'd happen sooner rather than later." Rapunzel shrugs. "Now who fessed up first? Red?" she guesses delightedly.

Both of them shake her head. "No, Snowflake here beat me to it." Red says with a proud smile. "I'm too damn irresistible, she just couldn't hold it in any longer."

"It's true." she confesses with a light laugh.

"Good going, cuz." Rapunzel grins, lightly nudging her arm. "So when's the wedding?"

"What?" Elsa splutters at the same time Red does a double-take. "Excuse me?"

"First comes love, then comes marriage. Everyone knows that." Rapunzel scoffs obviously.

"Getting ahead of yourself again, Blondie. Don't ya think?" Red says, still flushed after exchanging awkward, embarrassed glances with Elsa.

"Getting ahead of myself would be demanding to know the intended names of my future godchildren." Rapunzel disagrees, her arms casually folded across her chest. "Which I so get a vote in the naming process by the way."

Both Red and Elsa raise their brow at this. "Oh you do, do you?" Red scoffs.

"Totally." Rapunzel nods matter-of-factly. "And nothing against your choice of nickname, Red, but don't go naming your kids after colors. _Please_. I'd rather my future goddaughter or godson not be named Purple. Even if it is my favorite color."

"So much for ever having a child named Pinky." Red scoffs. "You're a real dream-crusher, Rapunzel."

Rapunzel just rolls her eyes and leads the way out of the room.

Before they follow in her wake, Elsa holds Red back for a second, needing to clarify something. "You don't really want to have a child named Pinky, right?" she whispers off to the side.

"Of course not." Red snorts, rolling her eyes at the very idea. "I hate the color pink. No, the names are gonna be Little Rojo Jr. if it's a boy and Little Roja Jr. if it's a girl."

Elsa just shakes her head and laughs, relaxing now that she knew Red was just pulling her leg.

"Why you laughing? I'm fucking serious."

—

Travel by ship, as Red was already well aware, was painfully slow. The journey to Arendelle has them at sea for a few days time - a fact that made for an anxious Elsa, especially as the trip wore on. Red was just as eager as her to put this behind them, and ensure Anna's safety once and for all, but apprehensive at the same time. What exactly they were getting themselves into this time around had yet to be determined.

On deck, Red sits on some boxes of cargo along with Rapunzel, watching Elsa pace in front of her. Even when she looked like her mind was occupied with a hundred different thoughts, she was certainly a sight to behold.

She could literally watch her all day long.

(If that weren't so weird and creepy).

_God. She had it so fucking bad._

"You're drooling again, Red."

Her head turns toward the smirking blonde combing out her hair with her fingers. "Shut up, am not."

Pascal looks up at her from his resting spot on Rapunzel's lap and nods in the affirmative like, "Uh huh!" (Of course siding with his blonde pal).

Red just rolls her eyes at the pair of them. What did they know.

"Have you and Elsa talked about what you're going to do afterward?"

"After what?" She gets a little distracted by the sight of Tiana hopping over to Elsa and joining her by the railing. Ever since Camelot and Tiana had helped take care of Elsa and her hands, the two had surprisingly grown to be close friends.

...Not that she was bringing it up because she was jealous or anything. Far from it. After being alone for so long, she _wanted_ Elsa to have all the friends in the world.

"After we kick Han's ass and all is right in Arendelle." Rapunzel elaborates, snapping back her attention.

"Uh, no." she answers, slightly discomforted. "We haven't really gotten around to it."

"But you want to stay with her, right? In Arendelle?"

"Well yeah, if she'll have me." She wasn't sure how well it would work though. She already knew she wouldn't fit into a world of royalty but she wasn't about to let that get in the way, if she could help it.

"Of course she will." Rapunzel assures. "But what are you gonna tell your grandma?"

Red grimaces at the reminder, scared and unsure of how that inevitable conversation would go down. Her and her abuela never really talked about relationships or their romantic experiences with each other before. Not that Red had anything to discuss really. Whatever dalliances she had always ended just as fast as they'd started, out of her own fear of hurting the other person. (And maybe even getting hurt herself).

Then when she realized a man wasn't what she'd ever want, she just decided to never broach the subject, knowing how traditional her abuela was. That being said she knew if she ever told her abuela about Elsa, it wouldn't matter how good she was to her or how much she loved her, or how happy she made her, her abuela would never be able to look past the fact that Elsa was a girl and accept them together.

"I'm sure it will go over alright."

"I doubt it, Goldilocks." she sighs, not really wanting to talk about this anymore. "I've told you about my grams."

"Maybe you don't give her enough credit." Rapunzel shrugs. "What parent wouldn't be thrilled about their child marrying into royalty?"

Red looks back at her in disbelief. "There you go with marriage talk again." she scoffs, shaking her head. "What makes you think we're gonna get married?"

"Because when it's true love, it always ends in happily ever after." Rapunzel says matter-of-factly. "Duh. Besides, it'd be improper to live with a queen out of wedlock. Make an honest woman out of my cousin, why don't you?"

Red just rolls her eyes and lightly pushes at Rapunzel's head. "You're too much, Blondie."

"What can I say?" she shrugs, turning away. "I'm a romantic."

"Hey," Rapunzel looks ahead and points across the way, "We're nearly there."

Following her gaze, Red sees that they were, with the outline of Arendelle visible in the distance. She hops down from her perch and straightens up, before joining Elsa and Tiana.

"Stay away, Satan." Tiana warns after a slight shriek when she sees her coming, scrambling behind Elsa's arm for safety.

"For the thousandth time," she huffs. "I didn't mean to knock you overboard, ya overgrown lima bean."

_You don't pay attention to what you're doing one freakin' time and you never live it down_, Red thinks grumpily.

Tiana keeps her arms folded across her chest, no less appeased. "Lucky for you I landed in the dinghy."

"And anyways can't frogs swim?"

"Play nice you two." Elsa lightly admonishes, dusting a welcoming kiss to Red's cheek. (Which she then turns into to get a little something, something more.)

Heh.

Tiana pulls a face and lifts up a shielding hand. "Okay, okay I don't need to see none of that."

"Sorry, T." Elsa apologizes, quickly pulling away from Red's lips, but it was too late, the little green frog was already hopping away.

Red smirks to herself. She hadn't meant to shoo Tiana off but it worked for her all the same. Moving her attention to the crook of her snowflake's neck, she nuzzles, then kisses the blemished spot where she'd 'accidentally' marked Elsa this morning.

It takes Elsa a second to register the lips nipping over her skin. "Oh no you don't." she jumps, sidestepping away from her. "My braid barely covers that spot enough as it is."

"Well at least we know Elsa's powers aren't really gone." Rapunzel comments suddenly.

Elsa turns her head. "What?"

"What do you mean?"

Red takes advantage of her blonde's distraction and pulls her back to her. Meanwhile Rapunzel nods to the far off North Mountain where, even from here, Elsa's ice castle still clearly stood, glimmering like starlight in the sky. "Because if they really were, that wouldn't still be standing, would it?"

"Good observation, Blondie." Red rests her chin against Elsa's shoulder and inclines her head toward her. "See, told you so."

Elsa nods, her gaze still fixated on the sight. "Once I've taken care of Hans, I'll have to ask Kristoff to take me to the rock trolls. Maybe they know how I can get my magic back. I hope he's okay." she sighs as an afterthought.

Behind them, the rest of the ship becomes abustle as they come closer to their destination. On the upper deck Mulan, acting as captain since she was best acquainted with King Arthur's crew, gives out the order for the anchor to be lowered. They couldn't very well dock, even if it was Elsa's own kingdom, not with the ships bearing the Southern Isles flags in Arendelle's port.

After using the small boats to come ashore, they begin their trek on foot, forced to take the long way around. It wasn't ideal but there no other way of getting to the castle, not without drawing attention to themselves.

As they're making their way through the forest, Red's gaze can't help but drift to the sky.

Something wasn't right.

"What is it?" Rapunzel asks, noticing her preoccupation.

"Dunno." It seemed too quiet, even for nighttime, and air felt different somehow. The clouds looked otherwise but, "I think a storm's coming."

"Great." Robin overhears. "Just what we need."

"Tell me about it." Returning her attention forward, she stops suddenly, her ears picking up oncoming footfall.

Robin stops with her. "What?"

Elsa, feeling the tug on her hand, looks back at her questioningly. "Red?"

"I hear something coming and fast."

And with that everyone draws their weapons in anticipation. "From which direction?" John asks, turning around one way, then back again.

She doesn't get the chance to answer. She barely has the time to push Elsa behind her. An animal comes barreling out of the brush, nearly knocking a few of their own down.

An instinctive growl erupts from out of her, her body prepared to release the wolf, when—

"Wait!" Elsa yells at the others, poised defensively, at the same time Red realizes.

It was only Kristoff's reindeer.

Ben. Glen—

"Sven!"

Right.

Sven rears up when Elsa steps out from behind Red, snorting, bucking his antlers, trying to communicate as much an animal could. He looked a little worse for wear.

"Easy, Sven. Easy." Elsa soothes, holding out her hands as she takes tentative steps. Red sticks close by her as a precaution.

Sven quiets, but his breath still comes out in short pants. "Sven, where is Kristoff?" Elsa asks, and Red looks around half expecting the blonde mountain boy to not be far off. After all the the two were inseparable.

Sven makes a noise which could only be described as a reindeer's attempt at speaking as he jerks his head in the direction of where they were going: the castle.

"And Anna?"

Sven repeats the motion, this time more insistently.

"Okay, okay." Elsa whispers, gently touching his muzzle to placate him. "We're going there now. Everything's going to be alright. I need you to stay calm, okay?"

Sven gives a small consenting snort. But then he draws back and comes around her, trying to use his antlers to get her to move, in a direction different from where they were supposed to be going.

"What the...?" Red tries to pull Elsa away from him, before she was accidentally gored by an antler, but she waves her off, trying to understand what he wanted of her.

It isn't until Sven starts pawing at the ground, at a small moss covered rock, that Red figures it out.

"Loos like we'll being seeing the rock trolls sooner than we thought."

"Excuse me, rock what?" Snow asks, listening but not understanding.

"It's a long story." Red waves off, hurrying after Elsa who was now trailing the reindeer without hesitation.

"So we're just gonna follow the moose?" Robin questions skeptically. "Okay."

Following Sven through the thick pine forest, they eventually reach a point where the trees begin to thin out into a large stone enclosure littered with moss-covered boulders.

While everyone else eyes their new surroundings warily, Red sticks close by Elsa as she slowly approaches the center.

"Everyone?" she calls out, hands clasped nervously in front of her. "It's Elsa—Queen Elsa of Arendelle." she elaborates, figuring they were more familiar with Anna and not so much her. "I need to speak with Grand Pabbie, please."

Red falters back a step as the ground beneath her feet trembles, rocks rolling forward to encircle them. A few gasps come from the group as they jump out of their way.

The trolls then pop out of themselves, revealing big ol' ears that rivaled the size of their large rock faces.

Off to the side, John leans sideways into Robin, whispering, "Did you see that?"

"You mean the rocks turning into trolls?" Robin shakes his head. "Nah, didn't notice."

The second the trolls lock eyes on Elsa, chaos ensues. They jump up in a panic and scramble toward Elsa, all talking at once. Several of them begin tugging at the hem of her cape, each trying to explain what was going on.

"Hey!" Before Red could tell them to shut up, a hush fell over them as another boulder ambled through their parted numbers.

"Queen Elsa." the older rock troll, assumed to be Grand Pabbie, acknowledges.

Elsa kneels down to his height. "Are you all alright? We were on our way to the castle when Sven found us and brought us here. I know Hans has Anna."

"You must be very careful your Majesty." Grand Pabbie quietly urges. "You are not safe in Arendelle. Hans has turned the kingdom against you. "

Red frowns deeply and finds herself responding before Elsa can. "What do you mean he turned the kingdom against her?"

Elsa nods shortly, wondering the same thing. "I know Hans has his charm but surely the people of Arendelle couldn't have forgotten what he nearly did to me and my sister? How could he have just waltzed back into the kingdom and taken over?"

Red's eyes narrow as she watches the rock trolls exchange guilty glances with each other. As their heads duck down and their ears lower, making them appear even smaller, Elsa gently prompts, "Grand Pabbie?"

"What did you do?" Red echoes in her own temperamental way.

Elsa shoots her a look. "Red."

"He has Kristoff!" one of the female boulder suddenly wails, effectively scaring the crap out of all of them. "He was going to kill him! My sweet baby boy!"

"He destroyed half the family as a warning not to go against him." whispered another troll, while Kristoff's adopted mother - Red could only assume it was her - was comforted by her surrounding family.

With that, Elsa was able to put two and two together. "You altered the kingdom's memories. Just like you did with Anna when we were kids."

"The head is most easily persuaded." Grand Pabbie confirms needlessly, his eyes solemn. "Hans gave us no other choice."

"Well then undo it." Red demands. "We can't very well take back a kingdom when people are gunning for her."

Grand Pabbie shakes his head regretfully. "We can't. At least not until we ensure Kristoff's safety. Hans said he would keep him alive only as long as did what he said. If we were to undo the magic before, there's no telling what other horrors Hans would commit. Queen Elsa, I am—"

Elsa shakes her head, gently touching his shoulder, "It's okay. Your hands were tied." She drops her hand, pushing herself upright. "We will take care of Hans. And find Kristoff. Then you can undo your magic?"

Grand Pabbie nods in the affirmative. "Nothing would bring me more pleasure, your majesty."

"Thank you."

"Queen Elsa, you must be cautious." Grand Pabbie reiterates just as she turns to leave. "To the people, Hans is the hero. And you, the villain. Everyone including the Arendelle guard."

Elsa stops for a moment.

"Even Anna?"

Grand Pabbie doesn't say anything, but it's all the answer she needs.

Red looks back at her but Elsa turns her head and presses onward.

"Wait." Rapunzel grabs onto Elsa's wrist at the last second, preventing her from walking away. "What about your powers?" They meant to ask about them and since they were here...Rapunzel turns back to Grand Pabbie, explaining, "Elsa lost her magic. Can you help her?"

"Lost her magic?" Grand Pabbie repeats, staring up at her in confusion.

"It's gone. There was an Evil Queen involved." Elsa murmurs, not really wanting to get into it. Reluctantly, she kneels and offers her hand when Grand Pabbie beckons her to.

Grand Pabbie holds her hand between his and closes his eyes in concentration. "Your power has been taken, yes." he says after a moment, his eyes slowly blinking open. "Bound to something else, making you unable to conjure the ice. But your power is not truly gone, that would be impossible. No, a small but vital part remains forever inside you, attached to your life force."

"You said my power was bound? Bound to what?" Elsa questions, taking her hand back and standing again. "And how do I get it back?"

Grand Pabbie shakes his head. "I do not know to what. But I suspect, once that bond is broken, your power will return to you."

"There was a reason the Evil Queen took your power." Red says quietly, drawing Elsa's attention. "There had to be. She had to have wanted it this whole time. Why else go to all that trouble of kidnapping Anna only to drop her back in Arendelle where you could get her?"

Before anyone one of them could think it over any longer, Red hears a twig snap somewhere behind them, close by.

"You must go now." Grand Pabbie urges, his big ol' ears apparently picking up the sound as well. "Hans has eyes everywhere."

Everyone draws their weapons and jumps to action. But before they can set foot to leave the valley, figures begin to emerge from the shadows.

With small shrieks, the rock trolls collectively return to their sedimentary states and roll out of sight.

"Halt! Drop your weapons!"

Confident looks are exchanged between their rag tag bunch. They were more than willing to fight their way through this obstacle and knew they'd do so successfully.

But Elsa seemed to have something different in mind.

"Do as they say."

Incredulous, Red does a double-take back at her girlfriend.

"I don't want anyone getting hurt." Elsa explains quietly, answering her unspoken question.

"They're way more likely to get hurt than we are, snowflake." she scoffs, her wolf already vibrating with anticipation. "I mean, come on, the damage I can do as a wolf alone—"

"Which is what I don't want." Elsa maintains, turning her head. "Those are _my_ guards. As problematic as they may be to us now I don't want them treated as though they're Evil Queen minions. Their memories have been altered, they can't help their actions."

"On the contrary, Elsa." a smooth voice intervenes. "Their actions are their own. I have not taken away their free will. They choose to serve me because they know it's the right side to be on."

Red turns around and immediately sizes up the confident young prince stepping forward. The infamous Hans. Just as Elsa once described, he looked every bit the role of the ideal Prince Charming, with the obvious exception being the psychotic smile and obnoxious as fuck sideburns.

"The right side?" Elsa scoffs, while the guards pick up their weapons. "Don't make me laugh. Did you learn nothing from your last attempt at taking over Arendelle?"

"If at first you don't succeed, try, try again." Hans simply quotes. "First I failed. Now I succeeded. Perseverance really does pay off." he grins.

"You haven't succeeded in doing a damn thing." Red steps forward, her temper beginning to flare. "Aside from being a royal pain in the ass."

When Hans just regards her with faint amusement, it only serves as further provocation. "I'd keep that dog on a tight leash if I were you, Elsa. Otherwise things will get unpleasant." he says, and good god, Red's never met a face she wanted to claw off so fucking badly - including the Evil Queen's.

(And that was saying something).

"Unpleasant is a fucking understatement."

She tries to step even closer to better toy with her prey but Elsa holds her back, hand squeezing hers in warning. However good Elsa's touch felt, her wolf can't help but rumble its displeasure.

Hans brushes off her interruption. "Things are different this time around, Elsa." he continues. With a nod, the Arendelle guards, the same ones that have served Elsa and her family all her life, close in on their little group. "Amazing what a little troll magic can do, isn't it?" he smiles. "Who would have thought. A lot more useful than your icicles."

"Fuck you, copperhead." Robin sneers.

Elsa releases Red's hand. "If you think you're simply going to get away with this, you're delusional."

"And you're delusional if you think your words frighten me." Hans easily scoffs in return, closing what distance there was left between them. "You have no power, Elsa. None. You have been and always be nothing but a scared useless little girl." he says right to her face, then casting a glance at Red. "Just now with a dirty little mutt as a pet."

Before Red can even think to claw his eyes out for that remark, she finds herself being pushed aside by Elsa.

Then, in that same instant, Hans' nose is snatched between the blonde's fingers and twisted sideways.

"You really shouldn't have said that."

Hans yelps out in pain as Elsa twists even harder.

If she wasn't already in love with Elsa, this would've definitely been the moment to do it for her.

Seriously.

Elsa trying to break off Han's nose was like the most adorable, but still awesome, sight ever.

The moment, however, is short lived as the Arendelle guards rush to Han's aide. But Robin and the rest of the group, seize the opportunity to fight for the upper hand and take back their weapons.

All the commotion that breaks out around her diverts Red's attention and she instinctively sets out to help, forcefully kicking- and throwing aside the nearest guards that try to approach her, but while remaining mindful of Elsa's request that they not be killed. Her attention however quickly reverts back to Elsa when she hears the low thud of Elsa falling backward on the ground, a grunt of pain escaping her.

Red curses herself for getting so easily distracted.

"Now this is familiar position." There was an unmistakable gleam of triumph in Hans' eyes as he loomed over Elsa with his sword pointed at her neck. "Seems like just yesterday we were here."

With a low growl, Red pushes forward, intent on taking that sword of his and shoving it where the sun don't shine. "I wouldn't." Hans warns, seeing her movement, and flicks his sword accordingly. "I had this blade specially made. With pure silver."

Red stops short, tensing. Not because of the silver, no - had that blade been any closer to Elsa, the sharp motion would have slit her throat, intentional or not.

Hans' gaze alternates between them both, daring either one of them to make a move. "Now do yourselves a favor and tell your ragtag group to stand down. Otherwise," He nods upward and Red dares to follow his gaze to the mountain ridges that surrounded them, where a row of Southern Isles archers were stationed, poised at the ready. "They all have been given the same target. Only one of you. Though which one you won't find out until well, it's too late. It could very well be the archer, or the princess, or the warrior—"

"Fine." Elsa agrees reluctantly, not willing to take any chances. She wipes away the blood still trickling out of her nose. Then, over her shoulder, nods at the others. "We surrender."

"Wise decision." Hans smiles before indicating to his guards to proceed. "Now then, let's get you all properly situated." Red's eyes narrow as they begin forcing everyone into metal restraints. "We wouldn't want anymore excitement. At least not yet."

"Don't fight it." Elsa whispers out of the corner of her mouth, when Red stubbornly pulls away, daring the guard to her left to try and fucking touch her with those things. "We need to get to the castle anyways."

"I wolf out and we can get there on our own without the shackles." she huffs, glaring over at Hans.

"If you haven't noticed we are outnumbered, with a dozen bowmen ready to execute one of us the second we step out of line. Not to mention Hans has a sword made with silver. You attack and he will take you down with him. I won't take those chances, so please, just keep it together until we can figure something out."

Red heaves a frustrated sigh, knowing she had a point, even if she didn't want to admit it. She couldn't act on instinct and risk someone else paying for it.

"This is far from over, Carrot Top." she snaps at Hans, as they're being pushed past him.

After their trek back into Arendelle, they're escorted right to the castle dungeons and thrown into several adjoining cells.

"See this is why gingers need to be banished to their own fucking island." Red overhears Robin say as they're being chained up to the walls.

"Yeah. An island with volcanoes. So they can like, fall in them." adds John.

"And their only source of food is lima beans."

Red cracks a smile in spite of herself at the silence that follows Rapunzel's remark.

"What? I hate lima beans."

"Shut up, the lot of you." orders the head of the Arendelle guard,_ Andolf,_ if Red remembered correctly.

He forces her past the two cells filled with her friends and puts her in a different one. The reason why quickly becomes apparent when she sees the shackles in this particular cell were, of course, made of silver - clearly a new addition to the rank jail cell.

"Aw, just for me? Gee, thanks."

Before she can get in another smart-ass comment, the door behind her slams shut. She whips around in confusion, expecting Elsa to be thrown in with her. But it seemed Hans had other plans - he didn't seem intent on putting her with them at all.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demands, unconsciously tugging against her chains.

Hans peers at her through the slats of the cell. "Now what kind of person would I be if I didn't give Elsa the sister reunion she's risked life and limb for. It's the least I could do before giving her a front row seat to your executions."

Red shakes her head, nostrils flaring. "You're pathetic."

It's a pretty lame insult for her standards, she knows, and far from the one she had ready to go, but Elsa's looking at her with pleading eyes like, _Don't make this worse, _so she holds back.

Hans looks back at Elsa, then at her again, chuckling, "When I'm through with you all, I'll be _king_."

"The hell you will!" Robin bellows from next door, igniting similar fired up responses.

Deep down Red knows this wasn't the last time she was going to see Elsa, but still the sight of her being taken away has her tugging at her restraints like a mad woman.

—

Hans has Elsa by the elbow, gloved fingers pressing firmly into her skin. He guides her through the castle with subtle but deliberate force, keeping with the charade that he was the 'good' guy here, while her staff watches with less than apathetic expressions.

It's a sight that definitely hurts, especially when she catches a glimpse of Kai and Gerda, the ones who practically raised her and Anna, looking on blankly. But if anything, rather than break her spirit like she's sure Hans is hoping for, it only strengthens her resolve to fix this mess.

Behind her back, Elsa discreetly tugs at her bindings. She obviously couldn't freeze the iron like the last time she'd been chained up by Hans and break free herself, not without her powers. But that doesn't keep her from trying to tap into what little source of magic she had left.

None to her surprise though, it's an effort once again made in vain.

"There's no escaping this time, Elsa." Evidently Hans had noticed her concentrated brow and put two and two together. "You are quite literally powerless."

She scoffs quietly at his tone. "Don't be so smug. It's not like you were the one to do it."

Hans tightens his grip on her arm while his amused smile remains unnervingly intact. "The Evil Queen may have been the one to take your powers but at the end of the day, I'm the one who gets the pleasure of killing you, marrying your sister - though that's not so much a pleasure as a necessity - and becoming king of Arendelle. So I think, given that, I'm entitled to being as smug as I want."

She would have given him a solid kick to the shin had she not bee concerned about breaking her toes (she might have to make a run for it later).

She settles for a cool glare.

"Marry Anna, kill me." she repeats in disdain. "One would think you'd have been able to come up with a more creative solution this time around rather than recycling your old plan, which if you've already forgotten, failed miserably."

Hans' mouth quirks at her impertinence. "Even if I fail, _which I won't_." He twists her arm for emphasis as they round the corner. "That won't stop the Southern Isles from pursuing Arendelle."

Somehow, that doesn't surprise her. She's never met any of his family - and quite honestly never wanted to - in person but she'd given them the benefit of the doubt when they'd promised her that they would punish Hans for his actions against Arendelle.

Now it seems the apple didn't fall far from the tree after all.

She could already hear Anna's "I told you so!" ringing in her head.

"But it's not just your kingdom we're after." Hans says like that's supposed to make her feel better somehow. "Arendelle. Weselton. Corona. DunBroch. It's all the neighboring kingdoms we're after. With the exceptions of the Evil Queen's territories of course."

Elsa shakes her head to herself. As if she didn't have enough to deal with already. Now apparently there was a Southern Isles takeover on the horizon.

Great. Just great.

"One throne is simply not enough for 13 heirs." Hans nods, continuing, "When the Evil Queen approached me and basically dropped Anna at my feet, letting slip that you had been defeated and Arendelle was now free for the taking, it was kismet. Perfect timing and everything. We had been waiting for another window of opportunity to set things in motions and when we got it," he chuckles. "We wasted no time."

"The Evil Queen had to have wanted something in return." she brings up, if only to keep him distracted while she thought of a way out.

Hans smiles pleasantly as he replies with, "Surprisingly not. Not that I would be opposed to any kind of repayment. All she asked was that I make you and your friends suffer. Which I wholeheartedly plan to do."

"Even Snow White?" she quirks her brow. She would have thought the Evil Queen wanted the privilege of doing that herself.

"She's the exception. Not that it makes any difference to me." he shrugs carelessly. "As long as I get my revenge on you and your sister for publicly humiliating me."

Elsa can't help the scoff that escapes her. Publicly humiliating him, _really?_ Anna had punched him the face, knocked him in the fjord, then the guards had to fish him out before hauling him onto the first ship home in chains. As far as public humiliation goes, she'd say that was less than mild.

Her eyes fit to the ceiling.

Men and their egos.

"It was your own fault for thinking you had a right to my throne in the first place."

Hans scoffs contemptuously. "No kingdom should be governed by a monster."

Now there's a sentiment she couldn't agree more with_, _but. "I'm not the monster here, Hans." she glares. "You are."

"I'm not the one who condemned my people to an eternal winter simply because I got 'scared'. And I'm not the one who abandoned my kingdom and left it to fend for itself just so I can have illicit rendezvous with a disgusting animal."

Elsa pulls at her chains, her temperament flaring, never with a stronger urge to slap someone before.

"You're unfit to rule." Hans dares to continue, grinning at her futile attempt to escape. "You're no queen, you're unstable."

_Like he's one to talk!_ "You're no more fit to rule than I am. A king?" Elsa questions with a bitter chuckle. "No, you're nothing but a spare. A spare of a spare. Of twelve spares."

And finally the arrogant prince facade drops, hardening into something darker. His jaw clenches as his gaze settles back on her. He honestly looked like he might strike or strangle her, or slit her throat right here and now, plans be damned.

His hand still gripping her elbow, Hans yanks her closer to him so they were nearly nose to nose. "You're lucky I know better than to give into impulsive behavior."

Elsa steps backward, sharply pulling her elbow away. Her gaze never leaves his. "Likewise."

"You're gotten feistier since the last time we saw each other." Hans comments, his eyes appraising. Then, with the speed of a cobra, strikes his hand out and grabs her face, pushing her jaw with the force of his fingers. "It makes me want to cut your tongue off."

Elsa jerks her head free of his grasp, gasping slightly.

She could easily think of a body part of his _she'd_ like to cut off right at the moment but refrains from saying it aloud.

She's then pulled into the throne room where Hans has already incorporated some Southern Isles flare to it. Flags and all. She looked forward to burning them in a roaring fire.

And roasting marshmallows while they're at it...

(Goodness, did Red have her thinking like her or what?)

Wherever that train of thought was going ends abruptly. The sudden sight of her sister catches Elsa off-guard. She's coming out of the side door with a castle attendant in tow, fumbling to take the necessary notes and keep up with Anna's rambling pace.

"I don't care what we serve at this shindig, I'll eat anything you know that, but we need like, five chocolate courses." Anna was saying. "Can chocolate be a main course? Who cares if it can't. Receptions are meant to be fun and chocolate's like the most fun food ever invented. It should be every...where."

Anna stops short, her gaze locking on her sister and vice versa.

For a second there Elsa stops breathing, caught in a state of suspended disbelief before it morphs into utter relief. "Anna."

She was here.

She was _alive_.

Elsa steps forward instinctively, wanting to go to her and take her in her arms, only to remember she couldn't. Her hands were still bound behind her back and Anna...

"What is she doing here?"

Her sister's tone lacked its usual warmth and vivaciousness. Instead it was stiff and full of confusion.

"Rescuing you." Hans answers, moving away from Elsa, leaving two guards to step up in his absence. "Well, _attempting to_ anyways." he says before coming over to Anna's side.

Anna furrows her brow. "Rescuing me?" she repeats with a slight scoff. "Arendelle is my home. I don't need rescuing from here."

"Not from here. From him." Elsa corrects, stepping forward. She ignores the way the guards do the same. "Anna, Hans has you under the influence of magic. The rock trolls—"

"Do you seriously expect to believe anything that comes out of your mouth?"

Elsa exhales deeply, knowing this wasn't going to be an easy fix. But she had faith she would get through to her. They were sisters after all. They had a bond stronger than any magic. "Anna, please. Just listen to me—"

"Why should I?" Anna questions sharply. "You never listened to me. You shut me out and ignored me for practically our whole lives. You acted like I didn't exist anymore."

Elsa shakes her head. "Anna that's not true."

Anna raises her brow incredulously. "That's not true? For ten years all I had was a closed door! And every once and a while it'd tell me, '_Go away, Anna_'. '_Not now, Anna_'. '_Leave me alone, Anna_'."

Elsa swallows hard. She knew the troll magic would distort Anna's view of her but she hadn't prepared for it to come from such a place of truth. She'd always known Anna held an underlying resentment toward her - something she was very much entitled to have, given, well everything - but Anna was too kindhearted to ever admit to it. Now these bitter feelings were coming to light and without care. She couldn't let it shake her.

"You know why I had to do that." she sighs. "I was just trying to protect you."

"That wasn't protecting!" Anna shouts. "That was hurting!"

Unconsciously, Elsa flinches at the accusatory tone. But nods in agreement. She'd been so scared to cause Anna anymore physical hurt that she didn't take into consideration how much mental hurt she'd be afflicting her with in the process.

"I made mistakes. Grievous ones, I know. But I'm not a villain. I would never intentionally try to hurt you."

Anna shakes her head, her blue eyes narrowed in uncharacteristic harshness. "But _you are_. You were downright cruel. All those years of constant rejection. _Do you even understand what that does to a kid?_"

"I was a coward." Elsa admits, her eyes burning with unshed tears. "And a loathsome one at that because I always had a choice. I _chose_ to stay in my room. I _chose_ to push you away. You didn't have a choice. I didn't give you one. Mom and Dad didn't give you one. You were forced into a new reality and expected to just accept it without explanation."

"And in spite of all that, I still tried to help you." Anna scoffs more to herself. "And what did you do? You tried to kill me!"

"I didn't try, it was an accident." Elsa corrects as calmly as she can, her annoyance building every time she looked over at Hans and saw him smiling pleasantly. Enjoying every second. "Anna, remember all that Hans did to us. He took advantage of you and tried to kill me out on the fjord."

"He was looking out for Arendelle." Anna firmly argues. "You were hurting the kingdom, just as you do everything, and needed to be stopped." She exhales in frustration, glaring. "I don't know what I was thinking risking my life to protect yours."

"You did it because you're my sister and you love me."

"If that was the case I wouldn't be so sorry I got in his way." Anna fires back before shifting closer to Hans. "You see, Hans gets me. He knows what it's like to be ignored and mistreated by so-called family."

"Don't let your common ground justify his actions, Anna. You _know_ he's in the wrong. Just try and see past the haze of troll magic, if anyone can do it, it's you—"

Anna steps back when Elsa tries to approach her. "Stop. Just stop." She shakes her head quickly, hands hovering over her ears. "_I don't want to hear it!_"

"I'm not giving up on this."

"Well you should because I'm done listening." Anna says, her voice growing sharper. "For once I'm shutting _you_ out."

Out of the corner of her eye, Elsa sees Hans nod to the guards flanking her sides. "What shall I do with her, dear?" he asks of Anna.

Anna angrily swipes away at the tears that had collected in her eyes. "Just make her go away." she sniffs, before sparing a glance back at her sister. "For good."

Elsa tugs against the grip the two guards now had on her. "Anna." she protests, helpless but to watch her sister walk away from her. "Anna!"

Hans waits until Anna's left the room before commenting, "Well that certainly was a role reversal."

"Shut up." Elsa snaps.

"Seeing her like that couldn't have been easy." Hans begins in a falsely sympathetic way. "Your only family regarding you with such contempt."

Elsa doesn't bother to acknowledge him as he speaks, still staring at the place by the door where her sister had last been. "It wasn't real."

"No, those were her real feelings alright." Hans chuckles.

Her body stiffens when she feels him come to stand in front of her, right before arrogantly declaring, "Queen Elsa, I hold you under arrest for treason and hereby strip you of your title for your crimes against Arendelle by orders of her highness, Princess Anna."

Elsa can only shake her head at Hans' complete and utter disregard of the rules. (Not that it came as a surprise to her). "You have absolutely no authority to do such a thing."

Hans just smiles. "To the people of Arendelle I do."

—

_Gotta break out._

_Get Elsa._

_Eat Hans._

_And spit him out._

_(Cause, gross)._

_Then set what's left of him on fire; make a Hans bonfire._

_It'll be great._

_They'll roast marshmallows._

_(And a pig, cause Elsa loves pork)._

_Fuck yeah. Sounds like a plan._

Panting, Red yanks on the chains attached to the floor, arching her spine as far back as it will go. "_C'mon you stupid, motherfucking..._"

"Red," she hears Snow sigh, "If you keep that up you're only going to throw out your back."

Red looks over her shoulder quizzically. "How the fuck do you know?" she snaps at the wall, incensed by the silver irritating her skin. "You can't even see me, hobbit."

"We can hear your grunting and grumbling." Robin responds, with her in the cell on the other side of the wall. "And since we know you're chained up like the rest of us, we put two and two together, since we know you can't be touching yourself—"

"Fuck you, Robin!" she growls, embarrassment flaring up her features.

"Anyhow, you need to conserve your strength, Red." Snow continues, after delivering what sounded like a solid kick to Robin's shin. "If you would just be patient. We're—"

"Who has time for patience when that walking sideburn has Elsa and Anna?" she huffs, now really getting annoyed with herself. Silver was way more pliable than fucking steel or iron, so she should be able to be bust herself out.

"Red, silver is your weakness. You're not going to break free just like that. If you'd just wait for—"

"Shut up, Snow." she all but snarls. The wolf was in no mood for a lecture. "I said I got this."

"Tiana," Snow sighs in exasperation. "If you would kindly unchain Red first, she's about five seconds away from ripping her arms from their sockets."

Red snaps to attention, remembering for the first time that Tiana - small portable Tiana - was with them.

"Tiana!"

"No need to holler, girl, I'm coming." Red lifts her head in time to see her green friend slowly making her way toward her cell door, struggling with the weight of the keys she had to pull along.

"Betcha glad I tagged along after all ain't ya?" Tiana puffs a froggy smile.

"You're out of your mind stupid for doing so but I'm damn fucking happy you did." Red breathes in relief, watching her squeeze through the gap between the metal bars. "How the hell did you get those off the guards?"

"Fairy dust." Tiana wheezes out.

"See if you'd been paying any attention to us, Red, you'd have realized we'd found a way to get the keys and saved yourself a whole lot of trouble." comes Snow's smug interruption.

"Bite me, gnome."

Tiana shakes her head to herself as she proceeds across the cell floor, the ring of keys dragging behind her. "Good lord, when I am back in my lovely human form, I'mma start exercising. And cut down on the beignets. For real."

Eventually, after a freaking long ass time, Tiana manages to get the keys to her and her chains unshackled. Red straightens up the second she's free and rubs her irritated wrists. "I owe you another one, green bean."

"FYI, I only allow that nickname cause it implies I'm skinny. Hey, watch it!" Tiana exclaims as Red all of sudden plucks her off the ground.

"If you haven't noticed there's no time to waste."

Red hurries over to the door and as carefully as she can, Tiana now on her shoulder, and unlocks the cell from the inside out.

Once she's able to slip through the iron bar door, she quickly gets to work on the other cells and freeing the others. "So what did the fairy dust end up doing to the guards?" she asks, meanwhile fumbling with rusted locks.

"Turned them into flies." Tiana answers casually. "Mighty tasty flies. If I'd only had a little dash of cajun seasonings, they would've been golden."

Red stops for a second and raises her brow at her, much like the others currently were.

Tiana's expression drops. "Don't none of ya'll give me those looks." she snaps defensively. "I got the keys, didn't I?"

"Cannibal." Robin grins.

"Boy I can't help it." Tiana frowns deeply. "I'mma dang frog. Flies are like biscuits and gravy to me now. Shut up."

Red shakes her head. "C'mon." Wasting no time, she turns around and heads back for the door the second her job was finished. "Let's get going. And for god's sake be quiet about it."

Naturally everyone looks at Snow.

Leading her to roll her eyes in a fit of exasperation. "For the hundredth time, _I can be quiet!"_

"Shut up, Snow!" they all whisper-hiss, her loud mouth voice of course reverberating off the walls.

"First thing's first, we need our weapons." Robin declares when they're all out of their cells.

"Or any weapons." Shang says.

"The guard's have 'em." Tiana replies, hopping back to her usual perch on Bellamy's shoulder. "They're locked in a storage room by the entrance."

"Good thing we already have the keys."

Being at the very end of the corridor, they rush past all the other jail cells, rounding corner after corner, on their way toward the entrance. They pay no attention to the jailbirds calling out to them, their arms reaching through the slats, until they hear, "Red?" come through one of the cells.

Red stops short and whips around, forcing the others to do the same.

"Kristoff!" Rapunzel exclaims happily, recognizing the source before Red could. She hurries over to his cell and presses herself against the bars. Her smile fades when she sees the state of him. He had a nasty split on his lip and a shiny black eye. "What happened to your face?"

"Hans." the blonde answers bitterly. "I wasn't about to let him take Arendelle without a fight. Had it been one on one, it would've been a fight I would've won, but he had his goons to fight his battles for him. And they pack a punch."

"We can see that." Red grimaces sympathetically, searching through the ring of keys, trying each one of them until she got to the right one.

"Is Elsa mad?" Kristoff questions, when they're finally able to get the door open. "Of course she is, what am I thinking? She's gonna kill me."

"Relax, ice man." Red says, first unchaining him from the wall, then dragging him outside of the cell by his collar. There was no time to lose. "If she's gonna kill anyone it's Hans."

"He has Anna." Kristoff huffs out needlessly.

"We know." Red tosses the keys to John so he could open the storage room and they could get their weapons. "We're gonna deal with it, trust me."

"Who are they exactly?" Kristoff wonders, nodding to the others.

"Friends."

Their group gathers around once the storage room has been raided. "So, what's the game plan?" Jack questions, looking around expectantly.

"We need to get Kristoff back to the trolls." Red speaks up automatically. "Once they know he's safe from Hans, they'll restore everyone's memories."

"It'll make things easier for us." Rapunzel nods in agreement, shouldering her satchel. "Everyone will be on Elsa's side again and Hans will be left with only the support of his own soldiers, if that."

"We'll have to be careful. Hans has men around every corner." Kristoff nods his thanks when Robin tosses him one of the guard's swords. He then looks back at Red and Rapunzel. "Where's Sven?"

"Locked up in the stables." Red answers, shoving the other sword into Bellamy's unsuspecting hands. He wasn't a fighter at all, she knew, but he would need to be able to defend himself somehow.

Bellamy, in response, lifts his gaze and looks at her like she's lost her mind. "_Please_ tell me you're joking. I'll hurt someone!"

"That's the general idea when it comes to swords." she scoffs. "Look, you've read about people sword fighting in books, haven't you? Same thing."

"So not the same thing!" Bellamy splutters shrilly. "This is real life!"

"All the more reason not to fuck up and accidentally hurt yourself." she smiles.

With Red leading the way, they rush up the staircase leading out of the dungeon. Once at the top, they peek around the corner to ensure the coast was clear.

"Halt who goes there!"

Red rolls her eyes and looks behind to see, sure enough, a handful of guards starting toward them.

"For future reference you might want to pick a new favorite color." Mulan says over her shoulder, shooting a subtle glance at her cloak. "You stick out like an inflamed thumb everywhere you go."

"Nothing doing, rice cake."

Red grunts at the jab between the ribs she gets in response.

Mulan shoots her a look. "You're lucky we're on the same side."

"Right back at ya." Red glares. She reverts her attention before commanding, "Everyone split like John's pants when he overeats."

While the group does just that, John stops short, blinking in confusion. "Wait, what?"

Red shakes her head in exasperation and pushes him to catch up to the others. "Get outta of my sight, you giant left footed turd!"

With Kristoff leading the others out of the castle, Red turns back to Rapunzel who, of course, opted to stay behind. Mulan and Shang were also with them, to her surprise.

"We'll handle this." Shang says, referring to the oncoming guards. "You two go and find the queen and princess."

Needing no further encouragement, Red takes off with Rapunzel in tow. Behind them swordplay ensues, with the echoing clash of metal following them down the corridor.

"This way." she urges, following her nose all the way.

"Watch out!" Rapunzel shouts, skidding to a halt. Red huffs in exasperation. No sooner do they get away from one group of guards, do they run into another.

Kristoff wasn't kidding when he said Hans had them around every corner.

Red and Rapunzel engage in a brief scuffle with the two guards. Being that they were evenly matched, Red doesn't think it necessary to wolf out - much to her wolf's chagrin. She settles for landing a few solid punches instead before stepping aside and letting Rapunzel finish them off with her frying pan.

As soon as they drop to the floor, unconscious, Red kicks away their swords and takes off running. "C'mon."

"Hold on a second, Red."

Red chokes on her breath when Rapunzel abruptly yanks back on her cloak, forcing the collar into her neck, nearly knocking her off her feet. "What the hell, Blondie?" she rasps, her hand rubbing at her throat. "You trying to fucking strangle me?"

"Sorry." Rapunzel apologizes distractedly. "Help me?"

"Do what exactly?" Red looks at her in utter confusion as Rapunzel proceeds to take off the guards' armor.

"What do you think?" the blonde huffs, tossing her a helmet. "Suit up."

"What the hell for?"

"Mulan's right, with all your red you stick out like a sore thumb. Or a baboon's ass. We'll get around a lot easier if we're in disguise."

"Or I can wolf out and take care of anyone who comes our way." she points out, brow raised.

"No offense, Red, but when you wolf out, you're all about tearing off people's limbs and snapping bones." Rapunzel turns to her and shoves a bundle of clothes into her arms. "Elsa's gonna want to have her able bodied soldiers back when all this craziness is over. You've got to think ahead. How will you expect the people of Arendelle to accept your relationship with Elsa if they find out you were the one maimed and disfigured their kingdom's armed guard? Me thinks that won't go over well."

In no state to think that over, Red just goes with the assumption Blondie's right and reluctantly throws on the guard uniform. Afterward, she pulls a face and grumbles, "We look like idiots."

Rapunzel looks down at herself, then at Red, totally okay with their new outfits. "We look like twins."

"Same fucking thing."

—

From the throne room, Elsa is taken outside to the castle courtyard that only a few months prior she'd turned into a ice skating rink for all her people to enjoy. Now the area held a different purpose. A wooden platform had been erected in the center and around it, a crowd had formed, a few bearing torches to combat the darkness, waiting.

The whole situation gives her a strange sense of déjà vu, but before she can contemplate why, Han's smug voice is in her ear, taunting as always, "Look at how eager your people are to watch you die. It just goes to show that absolutely no one wanted you to come back."

"Gloat all you want." she glares back at him. "But nothing you do to me is going to give you the satisfaction you so crave. I'm not the same 'scared little girl' you confronted on the fjord. Turning my sister, my people, against me isn't going to break me."

"Maybe not." Hans concedes with a hint of displeasure before meeting her gaze, his eyes gleaming with confidence. "But we'll see how strong you are once I slay that mongrel of yours right in front of your eyes."

Though Elsa knows he was greatly overestimating himself, the very idea had her pulling at her bindings, igniting a seething hatred like no other.

"Sir!"

Both Elsa and Hans stop and turn their heads. Andolf, her head of guard, was rushing toward them with what Elsa could only hope was bad news.

(For Hans that is).

"The prisoners—" Andolf was slightly breathless. "They've escaped, your highness."

While Elsa's heart soars, Hans' face loses color. "What? How—" Before he can lose his temper, Hans stops himself with a stiff turn of his head. "Never mind."

"I've already sent out a task force after them." Andolf continues quickly. "By the looks of it they were heading back toward the mountains..."

Hans' head snaps back at that piece of information. "Send more soldiers. They're going back to the Valley of the Living Rock for the trolls. Those criminals can't get to them first, understand me?" He grabs Andolf by the collar to emphasis the importance, then releases him just as sharply. "Destroy what's left of those rock creatures and then take care of the prisoners. Now!"

With a brusque nod, Andolf takes off with another word.

Hans shakes his head to himself, radiating barely concealed frustration, and proceeds through the crowd, pulling Elsa along up the platform.

Her heart was pounding now that she knew what danger her friends were in - at least before they'd been safe in jail cells - with panic beginning to seep into her mind.

_They'll be okay. They'll be okay._

_They have to be_.

The upheaval of noise from the crowd snaps Elsa out of her internal worrying as she's chained to the floor of the stage. It's then, as she processes the yelling and shouting, that she realizes why this scene felt so familiar to her.

_"Monster!"_

_"Leave us be!"_

_"Kill the witch before she curses us again!"_

The whole thing was quite literally one of her nightmares come to life.

Right down to being pelted with rotten tomatoes.

_Yuck._

Elsa could have laughed, it was so pathetic. How many times had she dreamed up this exact scenario?

(For the first few weeks after the Thaw, every time she closed her eyes - her subconscious convinced the other shoe had to drop sooner or later; Her people couldn't have been so easily won over with a simple ice rink after everything she'd done).

The only consolidation was that the joke was on Hans. Hateful words and decomposing vegetables were not enough to add to her lifelong trauma. Not this time.

No, if the troll magic was bringing to light her people's lingering doubts and fears, she would use the knowledge to her advantage once this whole ordeal was taken care of and do better as queen to assure them otherwise.

"Fear not good people of Arendelle." Hans addresses to the crowd, charismatic as ever. "After tonight the ice queen will be no more and Arendelle will finally be free from her tyranny."

The crowd cheers and with it Hans unsheathes his sword.

The metal sound makes the hairs on the back of Elsa's neck stand on end. "I thought you wanted to make me watch while you killed my friends." she says, looking back at him.

"And risk them coming to save the day?" he scoffs. "I think not."

Instinct has Elsa taking a step back, even though she had nowhere to go, being chained up and all. Still she would try and fight him off as best she could.

"Hans don't do this." she says as one last attempt to appeal to any sliver of humanity he might possess. (And as a distraction from her trying to squeeze her hands out of her chains). "Having a throne is not the key to your happiness."

Hans chuckles darkly. "See that's where you're wrong, Elsa. A throne is power. And with power I can finally get all that I've ever wanted. Respect. Recognition. But most importantly revenge on all those who have wronged me. Starting, after you of course, with my family."

Her brow furrows in confusion. "What happened to your plans of a Southern Isles takeover?"

"Oh it will happen." Hans assures. "Only once we've succeeded will I put my personal vendetta be put into action. My brothers won't see it coming. They think me incompetent, but they're the incompetent ones. I know all their strengths and weaknesses." he scoffs. "Taking them out won't be hard."

Elsa stares at him incredulously. "You'd kill your own brothers?"

No one was off limits when it came to Hans and total power apparently, not even family.

"They made my life a living hell." Hans shrugs carelessly. "Only seems appropriate that I be the one to actually send them there."

"I'm sorry your brothers were cruel to you, Hans. But murdering them, or _anyone_ for that matter, will earn you no one's respect. Only fear." She straightens her posture, declaring, "I will not have my people living in fear."

Hans points his sword to the crowd, smirking, "They already are, Elsa. Have been ever since you revealed your true nature. Now down on your knees." he commands. "I want this execution done right."

"_Okay, I know you did not just ask my girlfriend to get down on her knees_."

Both Hans and Elsa do double-takes when the former finds himself with two blades crossed just under his chin. Elsa hadn't even realized the two guards coming up the side of the platform were not really guards at all, but—

"Red!" Her eyes widen. "Rapunzel!"

The duo pushes up their helmets, sporting matching grins. "Miss us?"

"Of course." she beams, beyond happy - and relieved - to see them. But with Hans still in her peripheral, she knew she couldn't allow herself to be too distracted.

She would, however, take full advantage of _his_ distraction.

"Hold on for a second."

Removing her gaze from her two friends, she settles instead on Hans before delivering a full force kick to his groin. The noise he then makes is something of a whimper and a gasp with a bit of shriek mixed in - all at a very, _very_ high pitch.

(All in all a very satisfying sound).

Red pulls off her helmet with one hand, scoffing a laugh at Hans' expense. She smirks back at Elsa proudly. "Nice one, snowflake."

Hans having dropped his sword in lieu of holding -er, himself - Elsa promptly kicks it out of his reach.

Rapunzel keeps her sword on Hans while Red steps around him. "Don't expect those juevos to drop any time soon, asshat." Turning her head, Red sighs to herself as she takes Elsa in. "You okay?"

"I've had better days." she shrugs, crinkling her nose a little as Red brushes the tomato off her face. (Who knew her people had such marksmanship?).

Elsa lifts up her arms as much as her chains will allow. "A little help, my wolf in shining armor?"

She grins at the way Red rolls her eyes, knowing it was just a ploy to distract from the blush on her face. "You're such a dork, snowflake."

Acting quickly, Red wraps her hands around the metal chain link, then tugs with some effort until she's able to pull it free from the stage. Red's barely getting the cuffs off her when suddenly all hell breaks loose.

"They're helping her escape!" one woman in the crowd shrieks.

Hysteria sweeps through the crowd and with it people begin to try and take matters into their own hands.

"Shit!"

Elsa turns her head in the same instant Red wraps around her and pushes her out of the way of the flying torch aimed at their heads. She hits the deck with a slight "Oof!", both from the impact and from Red falling down on top of her.

"Sorry, snowflake—" Red's pushing herself off her when Rapunzel screams, "Red! Look out!"

Elsa sees the collision out of the corner of her eye. Hans had recovered from her little stunt and escaped Rapunzel's grasp to slam into Red, taking them both over the side of the stage and into the crowd. It all happens so blindingly fast that Elsa doesn't even have the chance to react until they've hit the ground.

"Red!"

Elsa scrambles to get her footing as another deafening upheaval of panic surges through the crowd.

"C'mon!" Rapunzel helps her up, then drags her off the wooden platform being fast devoured by flames. In the short few seconds it'd taken to climb down the platform steps, the crowd had dispersed. People all around them were running for their lives, but not because of the blazing inferno. No it was another sight that had them running for safety.

Elsa stops short when she sees it for herself.

When Hans had tackled Red to the ground, he'd quite literally knocked her out of one form and into another.

—

Talk about being pushed over the edge. Literally.

The wolf bursts out of her with such unbridled force it leaves her momentarily jarred. She shakes her head, panting from the effort, before pushing herself upright from the ground. Around her people were either hightailing it the fuck out of the courtyard - well the smart ones anyways; a few were caught up in the spectacle that was her giant wolf self - or trying to put out the fast spreading fire.

With the exception of Elsa and Rapunzel, of course. They were fighting tooth and nail against the guards currently trying to apprehend them. (She would have been a little prouder at the way they were faring had she not been so concerned).

Needless to say things were a little chaotic.

But, regardless, Red's able to keep a level head. (Well, as much as a werewolf can, anyways).

Out of the corner of her eye, she catches a gleam of silver, making her snap back to attention. A vicious snarl escapes her when she sees that Hans had recovered his sword. The only consolation was that for once, Hans did not look so much like his usual arrogant and fucking confident asshole self. Instead his face reflected that of someone who'd sorely underestimated what a beast she was capable of becoming.

Not that that would stop him, she knew. She might have unnerved him but Hans was way too determined to ever think to give into cowardice.

"Don't you dare touch her!" Elsa yells from across the way and Red turns her head to see that she - and Rapunzel had been overpowered - now with blades pressed against their necks and guards holding them captive.

The wolf rumbles loudly. Instinct had her instantly wanting to get them out of harm's way but she knew if she made any move toward them, the guards would be able to slit their throats before she could stop them. (Not to mention her diverted attention would leave her open to an attack from Hans). And if she tried to attack Hans that would give the guards all the okay they needed to do hurt Elsa and Rapunzel anyways.

All of this Hans seemed to understand too, judging by the smirk that had quickly overtaken his face.

"Go ahead, try it."

While the wolf straightens up at the challenge, all too eager to prove itself, Red knows she couldn't risk it. Elsa had said it herself, _"You attack and he will take you down with him."_

Still, she had to do something.

Glancing down at her feet, it occurs to her that maybe the smarter way to go about things would be to turn back to human. It would be easier to get that sword away from him with hands rather than paws. Once she unarmed him she could wolf out again and tear him to shreds.

Her mind made up, Red takes a step back only to stop when, out of the corner of her eye, she catches sight of two figures creeping up behind the two guards that held Rapunzel and Elsa. Quickly though, she recognizes the duo as Mulan and Shang.

"If you value your lives, you'll release the young ladies now." she hears Shang order.

The guards reluctantly oblige and drop their weapons, before being rendered unconscious with two swift strikes, but that's not what has Red quirking her brow. It's the squirming body Mulan has over her left shoulder.

"Anna!"

Once the guards' swords are taken away and given to Rapunzel and Elsa, the former immediately helps Mulan set down her bound and gagged little sister.

"_What did you do to her?_"

Elsa pulls off Anna's mouth gag while the others rush to defend themselves against more oncoming guards.

"Guards, arrest her!" Anna demands as soon as she can speak, jutting her chin toward Mulan. "She hit me."

At the incredulous looks she receives, Mulan kicks away the guard she'd been fighting and scoffs. "I did not hit her."

Shang, fighting with his back to hers, raises his brow at her.

Mulan rolls her eyes. "I slapped her with force." she murmurs defensively, striking her sword forward. "_Respectful_ force."

"We came across her in the castle and we figured it better to bring her back with us and find you rather than leave her." Shang explains back to Elsa, who was struggling to keep her sister under control.

"It's not my fault she was being uncooperative." Mulan shrugs.

"Fine." Rolling his shoulders, Hans says to himself. "If you won't attack, I will."

Taking advantage of what he thinks is her distraction, Hans charges forward. Red easily ducks out of the way and lunges herself, trying to go for his leg, but Hans was quick on his feet too.

Sticking to her plan before she got side-tracked, Red shifts back to human. She wasn't about to dance around in circles with him all night.

Naturally Hans looks very perplexed by this decision. His eyes narrow warily. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I don't need to be a wolf to kick your ass." she says, stepping forward.

"You're stupider than I realized." Hans laughs, swinging his sword wildly. "No matter what you do, this ends with this sword slicing through you, wolf."

"It's amazing someone who spent so much time being ignored and bullied as a kid grew up to be such an egomaniac." she scoffs. "You're not going to fucking win, Hans."

"On the contrary. You think_ this_," He gestures around to the chaos going on around them. Following his gaze, Red notices Rapunzel close by, frying pan in one hand, a sword in the other. They make eye contact. "Is all you have to face? Any minute now several ships from Weselton are going to dock and squash whatever lingering hope your little group has of reclaiming Arendelle and _'saving the day'. _You'll be outnumbered beyond comprehension."

Red exchanges a slight nod with Rapunzel before tearing her gaze away. They've always had the helpful ability of being able to communicate with speaking.

"How did you even know we'd arrive here tonight?" she huffs, glaring back at Hans.

Hans smiles evasively. "It pays to know the right people."

"You're right it does." Red takes a subtle step to her left. "But it pays even better to have friends who have your back."

Fighting one handed, Rapunzel whips around and tosses a sword to her.

The second Red has it firmly in her grasp, she strikes.

—

"Anna! Stop it!"

Elsa grapples for the upper hand, her sister's flailing fists intent on pummeling her into next week. "Would. You. Just. Stop?" she huffs, flipping them over and straddling Anna's legs.

Honestly. She was beginning to regret untying her.

"Let me go! Let me go!" Anna chants, struggling so furiously her face was nearly the color of her hair.

"Anna, I'm not here to hurt you." she sighs. "If you would just let me get you to safety—"

"I am not going anywhere with you!" Anna seethes. "I hate, hate, hate you! _Triple_ hate, you hear? That's some serious stuff!"

Elsa looks down at her baby sister, torn between exasperation and amusement. "If I get off you, will you stop trying to hit me?"

"Yes!"

"Okay then."

Elsa pushes herself upright.

None to her surprise, the second she's back on her feet Anna tries to lunge for her again. Elsa rolls her eyes at her sister's predictability and sends her back to the floor. Gently. "Okay, Anna. I think I'll take a page out of your old book." Before Anna can get up, Elsa quite literally sits down on her, preventing any type of escape. "You used to do this to me all the time when you were four."

It had been funny then, but now she was just stalling. She had to figure out a way to get her to safety.

"Your butt is crushing me!"

"At least I have the decency not to sit on your head, unlike some little sisters I know."

As Anna starts spitting out profanities Elsa was shocked to hear she even had in her vocabulary (she would be interested to know where exactly she picked those up), Anna does everything in her power to get out from under her. She nearly succeeds, Elsa underestimating her strength and determination. Before she can get away though, Elsa's hand shoots out, wrapping around her ankle.

"Anna!"

Anna twists and kicks at her, screaming as she pulls her back, "LET GO OF ME!"

With her voice still ringing in her ears, Elsa stops, suddenly hit with a gust of warm air. The shimmering sensation is brief, tickling her face, before evaporating into nothingness.

_Magic_, she thinks.

Her brow furrowed, Elsa glances around to see various Arendelle guards taking a step back and clutching their heads, evidently affected by the passing wave of magic.

It takes her a moment before she understands. _The trolls. Grand Pabbie had removed the magic put on them._

With that, Elsa snaps back to attention. She swallows, finding her sister's expression unreadable. "Anna?" she asks cautiously.

The strawberry blonde blinks for a moment before her eyes widen in realization. It all comes flooding back to her.

"Elsa!"

Before Elsa can think to feel relief, she finds herself being tackled full force. A gesture that automatically makes her tense - a few minutes ago Anna had jumped on her with hugs being the _last_ thing on her mind.

"Elsa, Elsa I'm so sorry!" Anna scrambles to get off her, only to jump back into her arms the second she was sitting upright. "I didn't mean any of those awful things. I don't _ever_ want you gone..."

"I know, I know." she soothes, her chin dropping to her shoulder. She wraps her arms around her sister and gently squeezes in return. Her entire body was trembling like mad, so beyond overjoyed and relieved she could hardly contain it.

Anna shakes her head in frustration. "I _hate_ that we're always hurting each other." she murmurs, her hold on her unyielding.

Elsa sighs sympathetically. "It's not like we do it on purpose." Over Anna's shoulder, she peers around at their surroundings. With the troll magic lifted, the fighting had stopped between her guards and her friends.

Feeling Anna slowly pull away from her, Elsa drops her gaze in concern. "So I guess you hate me now, right?" Anna sniffles, looking heartbreakingly devastated. "I mean it's okay if you do." she says, trying to play it off. "Totally understandable." She shakes her head, assuring, "I get it. I said unforgivable things. If I were you and you were me—"

Elsa shakes her head, unwilling to let her sister think like that. She reaches out and gingerly touches her cheek to get her to meet her earnest gaze. "I could never hate you, Anna. You know that."

Anna still looks doubtful but chooses not to make mention of it. "Still, having me be so awful to you, that was probably like your worst moment ever, huh?"

"Not even close." Elsa laughs humorlessly. "It takes a little more than a few unkind, albeit true, words and a few attempted punches to destroy me so. You forget I nearly killed you not once but _twice_."

"None of those things I said you under the troll magic were true!" Anna immediately denies, her mouth gaped open indignantly.

"Anna," she gently sighs. "I hurt you. Hurt you for many, many years. You're entitled not to like me for the pain I caused you. It's okay."

"But it's not okay." Anna splutters petulantly. "You didn't mean to hurt me, even if you kinda did, not that I'm mentioning it to rub it in or anything!" she says quickly, wide-eyed. "I just don't — I mean, I'm not—" Elsa can't help but smile faintly; it comforted her to know Anna couldn't always find the right words either. Anna puffs out a frustrated breath, eventually settling with, "_I l_ove_ you, Elsa_. That's all there is to it."

Elsa nods in agreement, standing upright and helping Anna to her feet. "I can't change how I treated you, but I promise you I'll spend the rest of my life ensuring you feel nothing short of loved and wanted and valued."

Blue eyes shine brightly. "And I'm gonna figure out a way to make all this up to you." Anna promises eagerly in return. "I swear on it. I'll wait on you hand and foot. Literally. I'll fetch you chocolate whenever you want. I'll do your laundry, clean your room, cook for you— _well maybe not cook_, _I don't think you'd want that..."_

Elsa opens her mouth, about to say something along the lines of "That's really unnecessary", only to breathe out something else entirely when she looks past her sister's shoulder.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me."

Anna's face screws up in confusion. "What?" She whips around, following her gaze, then jumps back. "Holy cow! Who invited them?"

Elsa shakes her head, watching helplessly as troops of Weselton soldiers fast approaching through the castle gates. "Hans no doubt."

"What did we ever do to make them wanna side with _him?_"

"Besides cutting trade with them?"

"Well, it was their own fault." Anna sniffs. "The Duke was a greedy little weasel who only wanted to exploit our tradeable goods for the benefit of his stupid smelly _Weaseltown_. If he dares show his obnoxious mustachioed face here, you can bet I will be giving him the atomic wedgie of a lifetime."

Elsa's crestfallen gaze was still on the sight before them. "First the Eternal Winter, now this."

She shakes her head.

This was not good.

Not good at all.

This wasn't supposed to turn into a war.

"Well, at least no one can ever say Arendelle is boring." Anna says half-heartedly before shakes her head to herself, fists clenching. "_God._ This is all Hans' fault." she seethes in frustration, gaze burning. "The second I get my chance, I swear I'm gonna make him pay. No more miss nice girl. Nu-uh. He obviously needs a hell of a lot more than a beating, more like a stabbing. Several stabbings..."

Looking around quickly, Elsa picks up the sword she'd set down. This was_ her_ kingdom and she'd be damned if she didn't fight for it.

"Anna, I need you to return to the castle. You'll be safe th—" Her words cut off when Anna swipes the blade out of her hand.

"_What do you think you're doing?_"

Anna doesn't respond right away. Instead she pushes Elsa out of the way and raises her sword to block the oncoming attack of a Weselton soldier.

Elsa watches in complete disbelief as her little sister proceeds to duel a man _twice_ her size.

"Ha Ha!" Anna jumps up in triumph after she knocks the sword out of the soldier's hands and snatches it up for herself. She sticks out her tongue tauntingly. "Loser!"

Surprisingly, when the soldier scrambles to his feet, he just turns tail and runs.

Anna watches him go, brow raised. "Huh. I assumed the Duke was like the coward of Weselton. I guess it's like, a regional trait. Hey, I wonder if Arendelle has a regional trait too! When this is all over we should conduct a study and interrogate everybody to see if we all have anything in common. What if everyone's just as addicted to chocolate as we are? Wouldn't that be—"

"Anna." Elsa interjects calmly, bringing back her sister's attention. "Do you mind explaining what that exactly was?"

"That was me protecting my queen." Anna scoffs as if it were obvious. She rests one of the swords on her shoulder and puffs out her chest. "And doing so _awesomely, _if I say so myself." she grins.

Rolling her eyes, Elsa takes the other sword out of her sister's grasp and uses it to defend her from a blindsided attack. In spite of all the help the Arendelle guards have been providing, they still had their work cut out for them against these Weselton and the Southern Isles forces.

"You know," After fighting off several fully trained soldiers, it sounded like Anna was beginning to lose steam. "This would be a lot easier if you still had your magic."

Elsa nods in agreement, narrowly dodging out of the way of a striking blade. She'd be lying if she said she weren't a little out of breath herself. "Tell me about it - wait." She glances over her shoulder, confused. "Wait. How did you know about that? Hans?"

Anna shakes her head. "Learned about it from the Queen herself. Villains like to talk, you see." she explains, rolling her eyes. "And taunt. I swear if the bad guys spent as much time doing their evil deeds as they did bragging about them, they'd get a lot more done. And while we're on the subject, I can't believe you faced her for me. Are you insane?"

Elsa smiles wryly. "To quote Olaf: _Some people are worth melting for_."

Anna shoots her a look over her shoulder. "That's not a expression you should take literally, sis."

Elsa shrugs distractedly. "Point is I'd face a hundred evil queens for you."

"And I for you." Anna pants, stepping backward until their two backs were nearly pressed against each other. "Although I really hope I don't have to, like ever. Not that I'm chicken or anything, cause I'm not. I just like breathing and you know, _living_—"

"Anna, tell me something." Elsa's gaze shifts back and forth, torn between wanting to keep an eye out on her sister and well, keeping an eye out for herself. "Since when do you know how to sword fight?"

"Had to do something with my spare time growing up." Anna chuckles, stealing another glance. "I didn't spend it just talking to paintings and eating chocolate you know. And while we're on the subject, when did you learn? After your powers got taken away?" she guesses.

"Before." Elsa kicks away one soldier, effectively knocking down the two behind him. "A friend taught me a few things."

Speaking of Robin, she hoped him and the others were okay, wherever they were.

"We'll figure out a way to get them back. Your powers, I mean." Anna pauses. "Unless you don't want them back, which is totally fine. I don't care. I mean, I _do_ care, obviously." she babbles. "But it's your decision. Whatever makes you happy I support a hundred million percent."

"It might sound crazy but I do want them back. The ice is a part of me. Being without it..." she hesitates, trying to phrase it in a way Anna would understand. "Is like you being without chocolate."

Anna whips around to gape at her in absolute horror, inadvertently leaving herself open to any attack. "_How are you even functioning?_"

"Anna!" Elsa tackles her sister without thinking, leaving the soldier that had lunged for her to fall forward clumsily.

"My bad." Anna winces, straightening up with the help of Elsa's hand. "You know..."

Lifting her gaze, Anna's train of thought suddenly evaporates. "Uh, Elsa?"

"What?"

Anna blinks her eyes rapidly to ensure what she was seeing was in fact real. From this distance she knew she could be mistaken. "Well, it looks like your uh, girl...friend, friend who happens to be a girl, is fighting Hans - well kicking his ass more actually - and she's, uh, kinda, sorta, really _naked_."

Elsa sharply turns her head, the "What?" dying on her lips when sees that Red was no longer a wolf and very much unclothed.

And just like that her stomach drops.

Elsa doesn't even think twice about going after her.

Anna scrambles to keep up with her. "So I take it by your lack of surprise that you've seen her naked before? Elsa? Is getting uh, undressed with werewolves like a new hobby of yours? Elsa? Hello? Wait up!"

—

One problem down, one more to go.

The others had gotten to the trolls and removed the magic from Arendelle. Something which definitely didn't sit well with Little Boy Sideburns whose anger and determination only intensified when he had realized what happened.

Not that Red was worried or anything. He may look a little crazed - just his true colors shining through in all their psychopathic glory - but she knew he wasn't going to last. He was putting up a good fight for sure, she'd give him that, but she had awesome, super-handy wolf stamina (among several other helpful abilities). She could do this all fucking night if she wanted to and not tire.

Unlike Hans. When their swords clash once more, she could feel his dwindling energy. She'd given him quite the beating already and a nasty black eye (it's what he gets for striking her girl). It had the wolf vibrating with excitement. It had enough of this dueling - as much as it enjoyed toying with its prey - and was eager to finally be able to go for the kill.

"Okay now you're not even trying." she scoffs mockingly, unable to help but goad him, just a little. "It's like you want to fail. _Again_."

With flared nostrils, Hans lunges forward and strikes down with much more power than before, admittedly catching her off-guard a little. The feeling is fleeting though as she sees her window of opportunity and instantly retaliates with a trick move she learned from Mulan, enabling her to knock the sword far out of his obnoxiously gloved hand.

He's on the ground now, and trying to get up, but Red stops him, pointing the tip of her blade against his throat. It would have been so easy to just cut across the skin. A simple flick of her wrist. But she wasn't about to have him go that way. No, she wanted to tear him apart. Leave him writhing in pieces.

"You know what they say, _You win some, you lose some_." Red removes her sword from his neck and shoves the blade into his unsuspecting leg, then quickly removes it. "Or in your case you just lose."

Hans snarls and grasps for his calf, cursing her through painfully gritted teeth.

Red just looks on unapologetically. Considering all that this bastard's done a little cut was the least he had coming to him.

With his weapon no longer within reach and Hans nowhere to go, Red tosses her own sword away so that the wolf could finish this once and for all.

Before she can though, she hears her name being called.

Red looks over her shoulder to see Elsa maneuvering through the fray to get to her, Anna right on her heels, with a few Arendelle guards flanking behind.

Hans sends a smile their way. "Just in time to put your puppy back on its leash, Elsa."

Red snaps back to attention and yanks Hans up off his feet by his collar. "Elsa might not kill you but I sure as hell have no problem doing it." she growls.

She's so caught up in her own deteriorating restraint, it goes unnoticed that she isn't the only one to lose her cool, until...

"Yeah, neither do I!"

With sword in hand, the fired up redhead takes off at startling speed, leaving Elsa to scream after her. "Anna!"

Red doesn't have time to think. Her fast reflexes have her grabbing a hold of Anna before she can run Hans down or hurt herself in the process.

She doesn't realize her error until Hans takes advantage of it, acting just as quickly as she had, and striking with a dagger he'd had hidden away in his jacket, ready to use at just the right moment.

There's a _gasp_.

It happens so fast she almost can't compute it. Then, as if in slow motion, Hans pulls back his hand to show the blade now stained red.

Elsa, still running to stop her sister, stops short and screams. The sound shakes her to the core.

"Okay." Anna doubles over in her arms, wincing in pain. "Bad idea. Bad, _bad_ idea. Ow."

Red carefully readjusts her, still stunned, and lowers herself to the ground with Anna's head now against her shoulder. "I was just trying..." she splutters.

She looks up, at a loss, to find Hans standing over them. Laughing. "_You win some, you lose some_, isn't that right Red?"

She's so deep in shock she can't even think to feel any kind of anger, let alone attack him.

Fortunately the Arendelle guards jump Hans before he can do any more damage, while Elsa drops to her knees beside them.

"Anna." Elsa acts quickly, tearing a piece of fabric from her shirt and wrapping it around her sister's waist. "You're gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay."

"I know that." Anna scoffs, trying to smile through a grimace when Elsa applies a little pressure to her stomach. "No pain, no gain, and all that, right?"

Elsa's eyes water helplessly as she nods along for her sister's sake.

Red shakes her head in agreement, but feels her panic spike when she looks down and sees the blood collecting on her girlfriend's hand. "Hang in there, kid."

Her heart beating fast, Red pulls up her gaze and turns her head back and forth.

"Rapunzel!" she yells, her eyes frantically searching the courtyard, in vain, for any sight of the blonde. "Rapunzel!"_  
_

Her screaming doesn't produce the blonde, instead another comes running through the haze of soldiers. "Red!" Mulan shouts, with Shang not too far behind her.

"Are you okay? What's wrong? What—" Mulan stops short when she sees Anna.

"Where the hell's Rapunzel?" Red sighs in frustration, still looking around. "She's the only one who can heal her."

Mulan shakes her head, unknowing. "We lost track of her." She turns to Shang. "Stay with them, I'm going to find Rapunzel."

"Be careful." Shang nods. As soon as Mulan leaves, he reverts his attention and sheathes his sword. "C'mon, lets get her inside."

Crouching beside Red and Anna, he carefully takes the latter in his arms and straightens up.

Red pushes herself upright, intent on catching up with Elsa who was already leading Shang to the castle. But she stops at the last second when she catches sight of an even more bruised and beaten Hans being taken away by the guards.

Elsa pauses after a quick glance over her shoulder reveals Red was not following behind. "Red." she beckons, with slight confusion.

"You go." she calls back, unable to take her eyes off Hans' retreating form. "I have something I need to finish."

"No."

Red looks back at Elsa, confused to find her shaking her head. "We'll deal with Hans later. Right now I need you to stay with me."

"Elsa," She sighs. It was hard to refuse such pleading eyes, especially when her snowflake was so obviously terrified. "You know of all people that asshole is too dangerous to be left alive, even for a minute."

"_Red_. _Please_."

As much as she didn't want to leave Hans a breathing man, Red nods in understanding. Anna was the priority now.

"Okay, okay. Everything's going to be alright." she murmurs, stepping forward and cupping her face. "Just get back to Anna and I'll—" Elsa opens her mouth to protest but Red shakes her head, continuing, "No, we need to find Rapunzel. So let me go help Mulan. God knows where Goldilocks could be."

She just prayed to God she wasn't hurt. Or worse.

Elsa nods reluctantly. "Be safe."

With a nod, they part, Elsa rushing back to the castle where Shang had taken her sister, while Red turns and runs in the opposite direction. She wolfs out mid-step, figuring it'd be faster, and proceeds to take down any soldier who gets in her way.

Sniffing past the overwhelming stank of cinders, sweat, and blood to track Rapunzel's scent, Red runs out onto the bridge connecting the castle to the village. Even with everything going on she can't help but notice that off feeling she'd sensed in the air earlier still remained, getting stronger. She'd thought it was a storm but now she wasn't so sure.

Whatever. She couldn't worry about it now.

Red turns back the second she finds Rapunzel and rushes over to her.

"Rapunzel!" she calls out. As she gets closer, she sees that Mulan - and Robin surprisingly - was helping her up. A few of the others were there too. "You okay, what happened?"

"She saved my life that's what happened." Robin answers before purposefully avoiding Red's gaze when he sees her lack of, er, clothing. "Did you uh, get hot or somethin'?"

"Clothes don't magically reappear out of fucking thin air when I change out of a goddamn wolf twice my size." she snaps, reverting her attention to her blonde. Concerned eyes flit up and down the girl's body as she steps closer, touching her arm. "Did you get hit?"

"On the head." Mulan supplies with a empathetic grimace.

Rapunzel slowly nods, then quietly groans. "If I haven't apologized enough for hitting you that one time, I'm sorry. "Frying pans aren't nearly as fun when they're being used against you." she mumbles, sliding her arm from around Robin.

"Here." She reaches into her satchel and throws Red her clothes. "Cover up that lady business."

"Anna's hurt real bad." she explains, dressing quickly. "We need you to heal her..."

Just then a loud monstrous roar shakes the kingdom - well, at least the ground they were standing on. Red jumps and whips around, wide-eyed as fuck. "What the—"

Looking across the way, Red stops when she spots the large, unmistakable source. Marshmallow, Elsa's other snowman, was all claws and spikes - a complete turnaround from the docile creature Elsa had introduced them to way back when she'd given them a tour of her ice palace - and terrorizing the Weselton forces left and right.

Not that she was like, complaining or anything, but how the hell did he get down here?

"Red!"

Red turns her head and raises her brow in surprise. "Kristoff!" she calls back. The blonde boy was heading straight toward them, barreling down soldiers with the help of Sven. At the sight of him, Red looks back at the others, quickly remembering, "Get Rapunzel to the castle asap."

Kristoff jumps down from Sven's back. "Here, take Sven." Kristoff instantly offers, even though he had no idea what had happened.

Red nods her thanks and promptly steps out of the way when the reindeer takes off with her friends. She returns her attention Kristoff, intent on finding out what had happened, but finds herself distracted by the sight of Marshmallow shoving soldiers halfway into his mouth, leaving their feet hanging out and kicking wildly.

Kristoff follows her gaze and looks back over his shoulder. He smiles proudly. "Talk about a secret weapon, huh?"

"So you brought him down from the North Mountain?"

"He's the only reason we were able to get to Grand Pabbie in time." Kristoff nods. "Hans had his men hunting us down like dogs, trying to stop us. When we got back from the valley we had Marshmallow follow us here. When I saw the Weselton ships in the harbor we knew there was trouble."

Red looks around. "And the others?"

"A little worse for wear but all alive." Kristoff assures. Meanwhile Red could see a few more of them amid the fighting. "Do you know where Anna is? Is she safe? Is she with Elsa?"

_Aw, hell. _Red really didn't want to have to be the one to tell him. As a result she hesitates. "Kristoff..."

Kristoff's expression completely changes, knowing just by her tone that something wrong. "Where?"

"Castle."

That's all he needs.

Red watches him take off, running at a speed she didn't know a guy his build could muster. _Poor kid_—

"Red!"

For once in her life relieved to hear that voice, Red turns toward the sound of galloping hoofs, to the petite princess on the very large black horse making their way over to her.

Red quirks her brow up at her friend. "Where'd you get the horse?"

Snow pulls on the reins to slow her pace. "Borrowed it." she shrugs with a less than innocent smile.

"You sound like Robin." Red chuckles. "And you look like shit by the way."

Snow rolls her eyes. "Yes, well I wasn't expecting this to turn into another Ogre War. Minus the ogres, of course."

Red snorts. "So like a war."

Snow fixes her with a mild glare. "Do you mind explaining what exactly is going on? And who is this other army trying to kill us all?" she asks, indicating to the Weselton soldiers. "Kristoff mentioned something about weasels. Though whether that was in reference to their appearance or their deceitful nature, I don't know—"

"It's Weselton." Red cuts off. "There's been some bad blood since Elsa cut off trade with them. Well, that and the Duke from there has this irrational fear of 'sorcery' and all people with magic."

"Honestly." Snow huffs. "That's ridiculous. Magic is nothing to fear."

"Says the Evil Queen's daughter." Stepping closer to Snow's horse, Red holds out her hand. "Here, give me a lift, hobbit." Snow pulls her up. "We need to get to the castle."

Snow snaps the reins without question (surprisingly), spurring the horse to action.

While they ride off into the direction of the castle, neither notice the trickling purple smoke making its way over the mountains.

—

"You'll be okay, Anna."

She keeps saying that but as the seconds tick past Elsa worries it isn't going to hold true. She swallows thickly, trying to keep her rising panic at bay. Beside her, Rapunzel was trying to get heal Anna but thanks to a blow to the head, she was having trouble remembering the words to the song required to make her powers work.

It seemed that everything that could go wrong, was going wrong.

If Rapunzel can't make it happen, she doesn't know what they'll do. She'd sent the others back out - save for Bellamy and Tiana - in search for a medic but with everything that was going on outside, she doubted they'd be able to find one so readily available. Mulan and Shang were doing what they could, wrapping Anna's stomach in bandages, but the bleeding wasn't letting up.

"I really, really, _really_ hate Hans." Anna moans weakly. "Have I mentioned that already? I feel like I have."

Elsa smiles faintly, her stained fingers sweeping back her sister's sweaty bangs. "Once or twice."

"When I feel a little better," Anna winces, "The three of us," she says, referring to herself, Elsa, and Kristoff. "Are gonna get some candles and light his ass on fire. Sound good? Good."

"Hey, hey, feisty pants." Kristoff says quickly, alarm overtaking his smile when Anna's eyes begin to drop. "Keep your eyes open."

"But it feels so good to close them." Anna mumbles, eyelashes fluttering. "So warm, so sleepy."

Elsa's stomach clenches. "Anna." She leans over her a little more, her hand pressing against her shoulder. "Anna, don't. I need you to stay awake for me, okay? Stay awake and I'll make sure you get chocolate right away."

Even in her state, Anna manages to perk up upon hearing the 'C' word. "Mmm. Chocolate. It's been forever since I've had chocolate..." she trails off dreamily before scrunching her nose, specifying, "But no white chocolate."

"Honey, you are white chocolate." Tiana pipes up.

"Elsa," Anna blinks a couple times, her brow furrowing. "I think I'm hallucinating. There's a frog talking to me."

"You're not." Elsa promises with a weak smile. "Her name's Tiana. She's my friend."

"I bet it's not easy being green." Anna sighs.

"You don't know the half of it." Tiana moves closer, hopping from Bellamy's shoulder to Kristoff's.

With Tiana keeping her sister occupied, Elsa pushes herself off the floor. She had to figure out something. Her sister was bleeding through her bandages on the same spot she'd last seen her parents. She couldn't - _wouldn't_ \- say goodbye to Anna here too. Not now, not—

The front door bursts open and Elsa snaps to attention. She releases the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Red comes through with Snow, and the others as well. Before Elsa can think to look to see if a medic was with them, her feet were already carrying her toward her girlfriend.

"Red."

She slips into her arms easily.

"Hey, snowflake." She breathes a relieved sigh into her neck as Red squeezes her tight. She'd been beyond terrified when she'd last left Red that she might not ever see her again.

Red pulls away first, slowly, reminding her that now was not the time for a lingering embrace, as much as they both wanted it. "How is she?"

Red looks past her, at Anna. Then frowns. She was paler than ever. "Why hasn't Rapunzel healed her...?"

Elsa meets her gaze, sighing, "She hit her head and now she's having trouble remembering how her song goes."

Red swears under her breath.

"You wouldn't happen to know words now, would you?" she asks hopefully. Red had known Rapunzel longer than any one else, maybe she'd heard the blonde sing it enough times to have it memorized.

Red shakes her head regretfully. "Never occurred to me to pay any real attention that damn flower power song." She huffs in frustration. "Okay then, look what about a doctor? Or the trolls? We can take her to them!"

"We could never get her to the mountains in time, not in her condition." she says regretfully.

"Well then we'll get a doctor."

"I already sent out for one, but god knows if he'll come in time. If that. This is such a mess." Elsa shakes her head, panicked. "I don't know what else to do."

"This is all my fault." Red says, her pained gaze drifting back to Anna, then back again. "I got cocky, I should've just killed him and been done with it..."

"Oh dear." A familiar voice drawls, prompting almost everyone's gaze to snap back to the staircase. The Evil Queen stands near the top. She shakes her head in mock pity, looking down her nose at Anna. "She doesn't look too well."

"You." Red snarls. She lunges forward but Elsa holds her back.

Unsurprised, Elsa subtly shifts closer to her sister. "Of course you'd want to be here for this."

The Evil Queen descends the staircase slowly. "We've had quite the excitement here now, haven't we?"

"Whatever game you're playing at is over." Red glares. "Anna is safe and Hans is in captivity—"

"Well of course it is." she chuckles lightly. "If I hadn't wanted you to succeed, I'd have given you a little more of a challenge as far as adversaries are concerned. A fire breathing dragon, perhaps. Something with a little more bite. Not an incompetent prince."

While the others exchanged confused looks, Elsa's eyes narrow in indignation. "Then what was the point of all this?"

The Evil Queen smiles wickedly. "Entertainment. Although, that's not entirely true." she amends as an afterthought. "I had my own reasons."

"You mean beside putting me through hell?" Elsa retorts, her penchant for calm promptly abandoning her.

"Don't be so full of yourself, dear." The Evil Queen sighs, rolling her eyes. "This was never really about getting back at you. I was just toying with you in order to get something I needed. Kidnapping your sister was just a pretext." she explains, stepping down the staircase with her gown trailing behind her.

"You see, there's this spell - well, a curse, more accurately - that I've wanting to enact for quite some time. I've been gathering the ingredients for ages and they've all been fairly easy to acquire, except for one I found particularly difficult to come by. In order to cast such a dark curse, it requires a strong source of _light_ magic to counterbalance it. So thank you for your contribution, dear. It's much appreciated."

As much sense as it made, Elsa still couldn't believe it. "So this whole wild goose chase of taking my sister was just a ploy to get my magic?"

At least now she understood what Grand Pabbie meant when he said her magic was bound to something. It was bound to the Evil Queen's curse.

Still. She was, as Red would put it, pissed. "You could have just come to Arendelle and taken it for yourself instead of instigating this whole ordeal..."

"And saved her the trouble." Red adds.

"True, but where on earth is the fun in that?"

Her composure evaporating all together, Elsa rushes toward her (to do what exactly she'll never know as Red grabs a hold of her). "If I lose my sister so help you god—" she seethes.

The Evil Queen's eyes glitter with dark amusement. "What's one more body to add to the family burial plot?" She casts a disinterested glance over her shoulder at Anna. "It's not like she's worth much anyways. Quite the annoyance, really. Almost made me _want_ to give her back."

"That's what foolishness gets you." she hums. "Bleeding uselessly on the floor."

It takes all Elsa's willpower to hold her tongue. Snow wisely intervenes before anything more can be said, or done. "What exactly is this curse going to do to us?" she asks though sounding like she'd rather not know.

"Are you gonna turn us into your monkey slaves?" John blurts out in worry.

Everyone stops and turns their heads, making the tips of his ears flush with embarrassment. Even the Evil Queen fixes him with a bland stare.

"That's more of an Oz thing," she intones, before reverting her attention. "But I digress."

"Then what?" Snow demands to know.

"This curse will transfer the entire realm to a place where I finally get what I want: _My happy ending_."

Dread plummets to the pit of Elsa's stomach. "But you already have so much here," she finds herself saying. "Why cast a curse to take you somewhere else? What could another realm possibly have to offer you?"

For once, the Evil Queen is devoid of her usual wicked smile. "A fresh start."

—

_A fresh start._

Another realm.

The words echo in her ears but with all the adrenaline she had still pumping through her, Red can't seem to wrap her head around their meaning.

"Say you goodbyes now, while you still can." the Evil Queen advises, gliding over to the large windows. Every pair of eyes in the room follows her movement. Pulling back the curtains, the woman revels in the sight before her. "In a few moments you won't remember you ever knew each other."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

The Evil Queen turns her head with a scoff, her lips quirked. "It means exactly what it implies."

"Don't do this, please." Snow begs.

"It's already been done."

"Cursing us isn't going to stop anything. We'll figure out a way to fix this and hunt you down one way or another." Red squeezes Elsa's hand. "_Together_."

The Evil Queen's gaze drifts to their interlocked fingers and back. Her lips quirk. "I wouldn't count on it."

With a flourish of her cape, she disappears in a rush of magic.

Red can't help herself. She rushes forward to see what they were dealing with, Elsa right on her heels. Outside, thick purple clouds of billowing smoke were well on its way to devouring the entire kingdom, having already overtaken the mountains and forest.

Over her shoulder, she hears Elsa's breath catch in her throat.

Well at least now she knows why she couldn't shake the off feeling every time she breathed in the air. It was all that dark magic making its way across the Enchanted Forest to Arendelle.

Red tears her gaze away. If she looked at it any longer she might just be sick.

While Elsa returns to her sister's side, the others come around to peer out the windows for themselves.

For a moment everyone is quiet, transfixed. Needless to say the sight is unlike anything any of them have ever seen before.

It's terrifying, really.

Robin is the first to break the silence. "Well, fuck!"

All around, the others waste no time in voicing similar concerns, some louder than the others.

Jack steps forward as they all reconvened in an informal circle. "What the hell are we gonna do?"

"What can we do?" Bellamy scoffs. "There is no stopping _that_." He looks over his shoulder, then back again. "We're screwed."

"Screwed is an understatement." sighs Mulan.

Seeing all the solemn faces makes the dull pain in Red's chest thud harder. She takes a step back, knowing it was only a matter time before the god awful goodbyes kicked in - or worse, the love declarations and/or make-out sessions (and therefore her time to exit), only to be thwarted by a bone-crushing hug.

She pulls a disgruntled face even after it registers who she had all up in her personal space. "You know how I feel about hugs, hobbit." she grumbles, all tense and uncomfortable.

Snow pulls away with a short sigh. "Well you'll just have to suffer through it." she sniffs, all glassy eyed. "Red—" she starts.

"Don't." she interjects with a slight groan. She squirms away, practically feeling the oncoming sap. "I don't do goodbyes."

"I know. I just want you to know I'm grateful to have had you as a friend. You are—"

"Insanely awesome, talented, drop dead gorgeous, with a killer personality." Red rolls her eyes, nodding, "I'm well aware. Trust me."

"I was going to say you are unlike anyone I've ever met." Snow laughs.

"Same difference." Red shrugs.

"And I'm glad we're friends."

"Eh. You're not too bad yourself." she admits, making Snow perk up proudly. "Not nearly as annoying, exasperating, and just downright obnoxious as when we first met. Which says a lot."

Snow rolls her eyes, smiling in spite of herself. "Still the sweetest words I've gotten out of you yet." She rubs at her eyes with the heel of her palm, sniffling. "But I know that," Snow drops her hand and lifts her head confidently, unwilling to let her emotions get the better of her. "This isn't the end. For any of us. You and me, we don't go down without a fight."

Red scoffs a laugh. "Okay stop talking, that sounded hella dirty. And I'm taken."

Lips quirked, Snow shuts her mouth and pretends to lock it up before throwing away the key.

Red resists the temptation to roll her eyes one last time. "Go on." she shoos, giving the smaller brunette a forceful nudge. "Go find John, or Robin. Or whoever it is you want to climb like a tree." Every time she turned around, Snow seemed to change who she was leaning toward. "If you don't start kissing one of them goodbye, they're liable to start making out with each other out of sheer panic. And if I'm exposed to such sickening imagery, I'mma cut a bitch."

"Why don't you do something a little more helpful and go to your snowflake's side?" Snow suggests, her tone dropping more seriously as she nods over to where Elsa was. "She looks like she needs some comfort only you can provide."

Red nods in agreement, having been keeping an eye on her this entire time. She walks away first to join Elsa by Anna's side. As she does, she overhears the sisters' conversation.

"...everything's going to be okay."

"Elsa," Anna weakly sighs. "We're about five minutes from being cursed to a place I doubt is made of rainbows and sunshine. You don't need to put on a brave front for me."

"It seems to be the only thing I can do right now."

A sad, resigned smile creeps across Anna's lips. "It's always something, huh, Els? Whether it's closed doors, crazy queens, or even crazier princes, life just likes to keep us apart."

"You'll find your way back." Red steps in, prompting both girls to turn their heads. "We all will."

Elsa rises from her crouched position when Anna releases her hand, letting her know it was okay to leave her side.

Together they step off to the side. Red turns toward Elsa and clears her throat, feeling her emotions threatening to get the better of her. She just looked so broken and defeated.

"Hey."

She steps forward at the blonde's sharp inhale, and touches her waist. "Breathe, snowflake." she advises gently.

Elsa shakes her head, trying to keep it together. From the effort her voice comes out sounding hoarse. "I'm going to lose her. In spite of everything I did, I'm still going to lose her." Elsa squeezes her eyes shut, expression crumbling fast. "And I'm going to lose you too." she gasps, tears spilling freely beyond her control.

Red swallows hard. Watching her snowflake break down in shuddering sobs, it took everything not to join in with her. She dips her head to meet Elsa's gaze. "You are not going to lose me."

Her voice comes out sounding stronger than she'd anticipated.

She pulls the hysterical blonde closer. "You heard what she said." Elsa whispers, gripping her shoulders tightly. "Once that curse hits we're not going to remember who we are. Everything that's happened..." she breaks off, shaking her head in despair. "_I just found you_."

Red bites the inside of her cheek, those four words gutting her inside out.

Fuck. She can feel the tears stinging her eyes. "This isn't goodbye." she maintains, as soon as she can get the words out without her voice breaking. The flare-up of aggression she gets helps to steady her tone.

It just wasn't fair. None of this.

She supposed deep down she knew something like this couldn't have lasted, commoners and royalty don't mix for a reason, but still to have it ripped away so suddenly. She thought they'd have more time. She _needed_ more time.

Red takes a breath. "We'll figure it out." she presses on. She honestly had no idea how they hell they would but she couldn't allow herself to think any way else. "It doesn't matter if we're on opposite sides of the world without a damn clue, you can bet your ass I'm gonna track you down."

"Actually," a voice interjects. Red turns her head to see Rapunzel with a faint smile, her tone matter-of-fact. "If anyone's gonna be tracking you two down, it's gonna be me."

Red gives a watery laugh, her gaze sliding to Elsa with a shrug. "Why not? She brought us together once before."

Rapunzel steps forward. "Don't be sad pandas," she murmurs, even if she herself was teary-eyed. "If people are supposed to be together they find a way."

Red gently sniffs, nodding slightly in agreement. Of course Rapunzel would be their beacon of hope.

"Come here." Elsa beckons quietly, reaching out for her cousin with her free hand, the one that wasn't still firmly wrapped around Red. "Even with all the terrible things that's happened, you've made me the happiest I've ever been. Both of you, together."

Red bites the inside of her cheek as the three of them embrace. With every passing second this was becoming all too real. She hated it. "I refuse to say anything sappier other than _I love you_ to you two blondes, just so you know." she sniffs, pulling back just a little.

Elsa's grip on her tightens. "You're not allowed to let go."

"Not in a million years." she smiles faintly.

With their hands firmly intertwined, Elsa moves them back over to where Anna was resting. Outside, what sounds like rumbling thunder grows louder. The force of it enough to shake the chandelier up above their heads.

Red's just about to suggest they move out from under it when a crackling sound distracts her.

Everyone's gaze turns to the windows. The pressure of the storm outside was making the glass fracture. They barely have time to turn their heads before all the windows around them shatter.

Falling to the ground from the force of it, while the others shield each other, Red pushes Elsa and Rapunzel's heads down to protect them from the onslaught of glass.

Her eyes fall shut as the hurricane of smoke and glass swirls around them.

Red blindly finds their hands again, or they find hers, who can tell, and squeezes them tighter, feeling, feeling —

Until suddenly, she doesn't.

And then, nothing.

* * *

**AN: So, yeah, this will be the last Enchanted Forest chapter, the rest will take place in Storybrooke. Don't worry there will be some flashbacks of scenes I haven't already included, just not full chapters worth. More answers to come once things start unraveling in Storybrooke, promise.**

**We've got a lot of things to look forward to: some jealousy, drama, budding Pezberry friendship, a Dani and Quinn meeting, more counterparts to introduce, including Anna...**

**Before I forget, here's the who's who of the recently introduced characters if you didn't already figure it out: Rumplestilskin/Sue, Bo Peep/Becky Jackson, and Hans/Biff McIntosh.**

**So here's hoping you guys stick around! I truly appreciate all your support - even those simple 'please update' comments (which totally motivate by the way).**

**Happy New Year all, here's best wishes from me to you!**


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: It only took twenty million years, but here it is.**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

She's in the forest.

Always in the goddamn forest.

Despite the familiar surroundings, Santana looks around apprehensively. The trees are dense, leaving little room for any moonlight to shine through. But it's not the darkness that has her on guard.

Things were quiet.

_Too_ quiet, even for like nature.

Behind her, something snaps.

_Okay._ Girl in forest, alone, late at night, of course _that's_ bound to happen. She should've prepared for that. Seen it coming. It's predictable as fuck.

But does she? No. Because, well, she doesn't know why. She's just a dumbass, she guesses. And a tightly wound one at that, who whips around like a scared little bitch and throws up a quick mental prayer it isn't some machete-wielding psychopath looking to skin her sexy ass alive.

(Which it isn't, thankfully).

Instead, someone else is standing there.

At first glance she doesn't recognize the guy but after narrowing her eyes for a closer look, she's able to put a name to the face.

It's that douche face from the grocery store.

a.k.a #3 on her hit-list.

a.k.a _Biff_.

Now why the fucking hell he, of all people, was standing before her, she has no idea. After all she'd only ever gotten a glimpse of him in person once before and since Quinn's birthday way back when she'd never even thought twice about him.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

For whatever reason, just being up close with the guy really starts to make her blood boil. And okay, yeah he's #3 on her hit-list for a reason, but it doesn't really explain this sudden urge she has to rip his face off.

Maybe she's just crazy.

Maybe it's that unbelievably stupid disney prince costume he's wearing that's provoking her inner Snix.

"What am I doing here? To finish what we started, of course."

When Biff steps forward, Santana steps back out of instinct, despite knowing she could easily defend herself against him. He pulls out the sword at his side, looking oh so smug and, had she not been slapped with the unexpected Déjà vu right then, she probably would've made a smart ass comment.

Her brow furrows in confusion. "Finish what we started?" she can't help but repeat, even as some internal force begins pushing against her chest, like it was responding to that threat. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Biff scoffs a disbelieving smile. "Oh come on, Red, you know. Or, wait." He stops in mock realization. "_Don't you remember?_"

Santana shakes her head, suddenly with her heart pounding in her ears. _Red_, _Red_, _Red_, the beat seems to say. She staggers back, head still shaking as she tries to get her bearings, but she can't because she's too acutely aware of how hard her muscles are twitching, her veins are pulsating, and her chest is heaving—

It happens so fast, she can't even comprehend it.

One second it's like she's a missile ready to go off, this pent up feeling just pushing and pushing against her ribs like something needed to get out, and the next second _that_ something snaps.

(Well, _explodes_).

After that, everything becomes a haze.

A bloody, bloody haze.

She's lost her temper before, plenty of times actually, but this was something else entirely. She doesn't know the fuck how, but suddenly she's all claws and teeth, and there's screaming, and vaguely it occurs to her that she should be horrified because, _plot twist,_ she's the psychopath here apparently.

But she's not, not at all. The pressure is gone and she feels free, like she can finally breathe again.

_This is long overdue_ _anyways_, an inner voice reasons, as she tears into Biff's flesh like a goddamn animal.

Kill.

Kill.

Kill.

So far gone in blood lust and animal instinct, she doesn't even blink when the body morphs beneath her.

Even as the screams change, and pale hands reach up to defend herself, Santana doesn't stop. She can't stop - won't stop.

It's a much needed release.

"Red!" the voice splutters, gasping for air. "RED!"

Red. It's all she can see. And blood is all she taste and smell. It sends her senses singing in the most euphoric way. She didn't realize how much she missed this, how much she _craved_ this, until now.

How much time passes, she has no fucking idea. But it's only when she feels the sudden lack of resistance coming from beneath her that she finds the will to stop.

Licking her lips, she pulls back to admire her handiwork, wanting to see if there were any traces left of that punk's smug ass smile now.

There aren't.

But it's not for the reason she'd expected.

There is no smug smile because there is no Biff.

All at once her heart seizes.

Where there was once royal regalia and obnoxious sideburns was now shimmering blue fabric and blonde strands of hair, stained red.

_Quinn_.

No.

No, no, no...

Santana bolts upright, choking on the scream that threatened to shatter her from the inside out. Violent gasps for air have her wheezing and shaking, as flashes of her snowflake bleeding out beneath her continued to assault her vision.

She tries to kick away her sheets, and the mental images, but her body's frantic twisting only make things worse, leaving her to fumble and fight the damn thing before finding success. In the process she nearly falls off the bed but she manages to save herself at the last second. She scrambles to her feet then, all but yanking off the dangling chain of her bedside lamp on the way up. With the light on, she looks around with wild eyes, panting heavily.

And in less than a second she's tearing apart her room in search of her phone.

She's had intense dreams like these before. She's dreamt of blood and death. But never so clear. Never so real.

And it's never involved Quinn like _that_.

_Jesus fuckin' Christ._

Her heart's beating so fast it feels like it'd climbed its way up into her throat.

Even worse, there's a disturbing copper taste on her tongue that she just can't shake.

"Where are you, you stupid piece of plastic?"

Her phone is, as always, sitting next to her alarm clock on her nightstand but it takes her dismantling her entire room before she remembers that.

Shit.

Trembling fingers fly across the keypad and the second her thumb leaves the green call button, Santana pushes her phone against her ear. As she waits, her eyes dart anxiously to the wastebasket in the corner, feeling more and more like she was gonna puke all over the place.

_"Santana?"_

When Quinn finally picks up on the third ring, she nearly does, out of relief.

Her head drops back against the wall with a deep exhale, her gaze fitting to the ceiling in silent thanks.

_"Santana?"_ comes Quinn's voice again, sounding completely fine, if only a little concerned.

Santana stiffens for a moment, the blonde's voice bringing her back to reality and reminding her to respond. "Hey, uh, snowflake." She clears her throat, trying to get it to sound normal, but it's no use. She's still too worked up to pull off her casual tone. "I didn't think you'd be up this late."

She shakes her head and swears to herself when she steals a glance at her alarm clock and sees just how late it was.

_"Yeah, I couldn't sleep."_ Quinn sighs. _"So I thought I'd just read until I got tired enough."_

Santana nods to herself, slowly beginning to feel like she wasn't on the verge of going into cardiac arrest anymore. "What are you reading?" she asks quietly.

Quinn hums to herself, as if thinking it over before ultimately answering with, _"The lesbian Kama Sutra."_

Had she been in better spirits, Santana would have scoffed and called total bullshit. As it is she can only manage a weak laugh. "Oh yeah?"

_"What?"_ She can practically hear the confusion make Quinn's giggling smile falter. _"No tone of surprise? Not even a _'wanky'_ comment? I'm shocked."_

Santana doesn't say anything, her breath just hitches.

Which is apparently more of a tell than she realizes because Quinn's tone completely changes to one more apprehensive. "_Santana, what's wrong? Are you okay?"_

Santana stares out at the view of the darkened neighborhood her window presents. Then begins to shake her head. "Just a stupid dream." she mutters, refusing to give into any cry baby emotion. "Freaked me out, is all."

To say the very least.

Quinn makes an empathetic noise. _"I know the feeling well."_ she says quietly. _"I'm sorry."_

Santana turns her head and shrugs it off.

"What's Marshmallow doing?"

She doesn't really care but it's her way of letting Quinn know she'd rather just drop the subject.

_"Sleeping with your chewed up sock still hanging out of his mouth."_ Quinn replies, going along with the obvious distraction.

Santana cracks a smile in spite of herself. She doesn't have it in her to be indignant this time around. "You know, when I leave my clothes over there I expect them to be taken care of, not given to the furball to destroy."

_"Well that's what happens when you leave them lying around the floor all haphazardly."_ Quinn chuckles. Her voice's a little hoarse but it's always like that by the end of the night. _"It already had a hole in it," _she assures. _"But I'll buy you another pair, promise."_

Santana pushes her head back against the wall and exhales deeply.

"I miss you."

The words fall out of her mouth before she can think twice on them. Which is a little embarrassing but the pang of longing hits her hard and fast then. And maybe, just maybe, hearing Quinn's voice alone wasn't enough to convince her she was truly alright.

_"You just saw me."_ Santana can hear her bashful smile even through the gentle reminder. _"And in a couple hours you're gonna see me again." _

"Yeah, well, that's not good enough."

Quinn laughs at her candor. _"Okay, then do something about it."_

That's all the confirmation she needs.

"Be over in five."

_"I'll be waiting."_

Santana ends the call.

Right away she grabs a jacket and throws it on over her still damp with sweat t-shirt, then slips on her nearest pair of boots. She doesn't bother with the front door, not that she ever does at this hour, and exits via her window.

She does the reverse when she reaches Quinn's apartment building, climbing up the fire escape and pushing open the already unlocked window. Her light is on, thankfully, so she doesn't have to stumble around in the dark to find her footing.

Or risk accidentally stepping on the sleeping Marshmallow. Again.

Santana closes the window behind her gently, then turns around, already shrugging off her jacket.

"Hey."

Quinn's sitting cross-legged on her bed, waiting, with her blanket wrapped around her like a little kid — a blanket Santana immediately recognizes as one she'd brought over from her house and never seemed to remember to take back.

"It smells like you." Quinn shrugs, noticing her fixation.

As soon as Santana's done kicking off her boots, Quinn opens her arms to her all too invitingly.

Part of Santana's brain hesitates but her body acts before she can overthink her being here and whether or not this was such a smart idea after all. She strides toward Quinn without pause, knee pressing into the mattress when she's close enough, and crawls up the blonde's body, making snowflake fall back on the pillows with a gentle "oof!"

Santana goes stiff then, when her gaze finds Quinn's neck and flashes of a bloody forest scene and a ripped out jugular return to the forefront of her mind. Her fingers begin to dig into the comforter.

_Relax, idiot._

Shaking her head to herself, Santana scoots down enough to drop a kiss over Quinn's heart before ultimately resting her head between the blonde's shoulder and chest. Quinn throws her arms around her once she's settled, enveloping them both in her favorite blanket.

Usually she likes to be the one to do the holding rather than being the one held, but right now she finds herself okay with their position, even if she felt undeserving of it, given what a disturbingly fucked up scenario her brain had cooked up only twenty minutes ago.

"Santana..." Quinn decides to try, after a moment.

"It's nothing." she assures, still not wanting to get into it.

"You're lying." Quinn murmurs, and Santana feels her hand sliding up her back. "But it's okay," Her eyes fall shut as snowflake begins lightly massaging the nape of her neck — one of her secret happy places. "We don't have to talk about it right now. Just know I'm here."

Quinn presses her lips to her forehead, leaving Santana to bask in the feeling for a moment. Quinn's kisses were truly like snowflakes, delicate and cool to the touch, melting into her heated skin. A sensation she, at times, really craved.

Like now.

Needing a more mutual exchange, Santana lifts her head and props herself up by her hands. She then shifts her body further to straddle the blonde's legs.

"You're always topping me." Quinn mumbles in mild exasperation.

Santana pushes her hair back with one hand and quirks her brow. "So?"

"So it's unfair."

"Are you really complaining right now?" she can't help but scoff. "Do you know how many people would kill to have Santana Lopez on top of them?"

"And do you know how many people would kill to have Quinn Fabray on top of them?" Quinn retorts just as easily, propping herself up by her elbows and looking up at her, brow raised in kind.

"Hey." Her eyes narrow from that all too familiar flare up of green-eyed jealousy. She's sure many people would like just that but she doesn't need to be reminded of the fact.

"Hey yourself." Quinn murmurs, her expression faltering with a small sigh, but her tone serving as a reminder that _she_ was the one to pull that card out first.

Santana allows herself a quiet huff before opting to just forget the whole thing. She leans down, lips nearly at their destination, when Quinn decides to speak up.

"You know what I just realized?"

"If you have to pee, suck it up cause I ain't moving."

Quinn shakes her head, and turns away from her, gaze falling back to her alarm clock. "It's after midnight."

"You trying to tell me you're about to turn back into a pumpkin?" Santana questions, pulling back from mild annoyance. "'Cause I'm not down with macking on vegetables. At least sober."

"It's after midnight," Quinn says again, like that should clear things up. "Which means it's officially tomorrow."

"Snowflake," she sighs. She still doesn't have a clue as to what the blonde was trying to get at. "It's late and I've got kissing on the brain. Talking like you're a character from Alice in Wonderland isn't helpful, no offense. Just spell it out for me, por favor."

Thankfully Quinn doesn't seem annoyed by her cluelessness. If anything just amused.

"It's February 14th, you special child." Quinn laughs. She rises up and kisses her chin before pushing at Santana's shoulders, encouraging her to move off of her.

Unlike their one month anniversary incident, Santana's not caught off-guard by this news, just a little disgruntled it was, at the moment, keeping her from getting some snowflake kisses.

With a heavy sigh, she grudgingly rolls over, freeing up the blonde to shimmy off the bed.

"I have something for you."

Santana shakes her head in disbelief, eyes trailing after her girlfriend, before emitting a frustrated moan. "Quinn, we said _no_ presents."

"It's not a present." Quinn smartly informs over her shoulder.

They'd agreed that between Christmas and their one month anniversary, they were well on their way to gift-giving overkill, but at the same time, Santana figured they couldn't just not acknowledge the biggest relationship holiday of the year while everyone else did.

Another resigned sigh escaping her, Santana pushes herself fully upright. "Hold on."

While Quinn's rifling through her desk, she pads barefoot out of the bedroom - mindful of the sleeping pup - and into the darkened living room. She goes over to Quinn's bookshelf and plucks the Valentine's day card she's had stashed between two random dvds.

When she returns to the bedroom, Quinn's waiting on her bed again. Santana's beyond relieved to see that she only has an red envelope with her and nothing more.

Quinn follows her gaze. "Cards are not gifts they're an obligation." she quotes, using Santana's own words from like a week ago. "So technically I'm still a rule-abiding girlfriend."

Santana rolls her eyes, smiling in spite of herself. "Nothing says romance like folded paper." she sighs, flopping onto the bed and dropping her envelope on top of the one Quinn bought. "You wanna go first?"

Quinn nods and picks up her envelope, tearing it open with a deft finger and pulling out the card itself. She smiles to herself as she reads aloud the cover. "_Once in a while someone wonderful comes along and makes Valentine's day not suck. - you're welcome_."

"We'll see about that." Quinn teases, looking up.

Though smiling, Santana shifts in nervous anticipation when Quinn returns her gaze to her opened card and begins to read.

_"So I tried looking up what people put in these things for inspiration and I got like, fifteen cavities from all that disgusting sweetness. (You'll be paying my next dentist bill). Anyways. You and I both know I suck at expressing myself and I think this holiday is a joke but I care too much about you to not at least try to do this right. I know haven't even known each other long but something in me just clicks with you. I never really bought that connections like that existed, but here I am eating my words. You just...mean a lot to me. I shouldn't be able to stand it because gross, I've officially become that person, but yeah. There are times I don't know what the hell to make of you (and I'm sure you can say the same) but in spite of that things feel right with you. Like they're supposed to be with people...I don't know, does that make sense? Fuck. I better stop before I really embarrass myself. H__appy V-Day, snowflake. - Santana._"

Okay, so not exactly the pile of sentimental mush crap you'd find in a Nicholas Sparks movie, but hey, if Quinn's misty-eyed smile was any indication, she didn't do half bad.

Santana watches Quinn close the card and shift herself around. She reaches out and presses her fingers into Quinn's waist as she proceeds to guide her onto her lap. "You crying because of how lame and cliched I sounded?"

Quinn just shakes her head. "Thank you."

Santana smiles slightly as her arms slide around her neck for a hug. A hug that somehow manages to convey everything she needs to know about how Quinn really feels. If that makes any sense.

"_Thank you_ for being so easy to charm." she chuckles, while on the inside heaving a huge ass sigh of relief. She pulls back a little and dips her head to kiss away the salty tears that had escaped Quinn's eyes.

Quinn smiles in embarrassment and begins wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater.

"Can I see your card now?"

Santana indicates to the other card left unopened.

Quinn's smile falters hesitantly. Out of insecurity, Santana knows all too well.

"You can't get mad if mine fails to live up to yours." Quinn feels the need to preface, watching helplessly as Santana rips open her envelope without any further okay. "You're some act to follow."

Santana rolls her eyes, because really that was hardly the case. "It's the thought that counts, snowflake. And obviously all that's needed to make _you_ blubber like a baby." she teases.

Ignoring Quinn's indignant pout, she pulls out the card and snorts fondly at the cover.

_"___You're bacon me crazy." __

Below that is an illustration of what she assumes is a lovesick strip of bacon.

Santana raises her gaze. "A pun? Really, snowflake?"

"It's a bacon pun." Quinn simply shrugs, like that's all the explanation required. Although in a way, it kind of is.

"It's pun nonetheless."

"Well I like it. It's cute."

_Corny is more like it,_ but Santana doesn't say that out loud. She just shakes her head and muses quietly, "So she likes puns."

There's something she never thought she'd ever say about Quinn Fabray.

Quinn's sheepish smile drops the second Santana's gaze returns to the card in hand. "I wrote out several drafts before I even thought about touching the card." she quietly admits, now fidgeting anxiously.

It's such a 'Quinn' thing to do, Santana can't help but shake her head.

"And you're still not satisfied." she smiles knowingly. She opens the card and the inside automatically pulls her attention. At the top of the card in slightly larger print, reads in Quinn's neat handwriting, *Warning: mushy sentiment to follow. Read at your own risk.* But instead of asterisks, Quinn's drawn little snowflakes.

Another 'Quinn' thing.

Below that, reads:

_"Santana, I'm just gonna come out and say it: you're the best thing in my life and so damn wonderful sometimes I could_ cry." She lifts her head and Quinn shakes her head, blushing like crazy at just how true that statement turned out to be. "_I'd call you a sweetheart, because you totally are, but I know how much you hate being called anything other than a "badass". Plus I wouldn't dream of ruining your street cred. I know I'm beyond lucky to be one of the rare few to see that kind, thoughtful side of you and I don't know why you chose me of all people but I'm sure glad you did. I can only hope I make you feel as special as you make me every time we're together. And if I don't, feel free to call me out on it! I could probably come up with oh, a million more things to feed your ego with but I know too much sentiment grosses you out. So here's to many more Valentine's with you. xoxo, Quinn."_

When Santana raises her gaze, her blonde looks about seconds away from chewing right through her bottom lip. "You really think about that?" she asks, that last sentence sticking with her more than anything else for some reason.

Quinn releases her bottom lip. "What?"

Santana nods to the card. "More Valentine's days with each other." she says quietly.

"Oh." Caught off-guard, Quinn hesitates, and Santana can clearly see the gears turning, snowflake trying to formulate the response she thinks will freak _her_ out least.

"Well I don't not think about it." she eventually says, looking at her with carefully.

Santana feels her lips quirk at that total double negative response.

"Well, that's good." She sets her card aside before pulling Quinn closer, teasing, "'Cause I don't _not_ think about it too."

She says it to put the blonde at ease, but it's true too. She honestly hasn't thought about future valentine's days or her future plans at all really— but only because it's never occurred to her to think that far ahead.

She doesn't even know what she wants for breakfast, let alone what she wants her life to be like in five years.

Although, when it comes to the future, she does know one thing: That she wants Quinn to be apart of it.

"I have one more thing for you."

Hearing that from Quinn simultaneously snaps her out of her thoughts _and_ makes her stomach drop. "What happened to the no gift rule?" Her mouth gapes incredulously as Quinn removes herself from her lap. "Quinn, in all seriousness I stuck by that fucking rule—"

"And so did I." Quinn sighs in mild exasperation. "Relax, would you? I just have this little something for you. It's no big deal."

"No big deal, my ass." she scoffs.

A gift was a gift.

"Just close your eyes, babe."

Babe. It's a name Quinn's taken to calling her lately, if only to catch up to the hundreds of ones Santana already had for her. Not that Santana was complaining about it or anything. She just had the sneaking suspicion that every time Quinn called her that, she was actually referring to Babe, that talking pig from the movies.

Cause, considering her snowflake's piggy obsession, she would not put it past Quinn to give her a pork related term of endearment.

(Now she's no psychologist but that sounds like some downright Freudian shit right there).

Anyways.

"Here."

Santana opens her eyes when she feels something - _multiple_ somethings - being put in her hand. Looking down, she's surprised to see a handful of pastel colored candy hearts.

_Oh...kay?_

She hesitates for all but a second. "Not to sound like an ungrateful bitch," Which she totally is in...3...2...1. "But candy hearts are like the worst candy ever."

Little motherfuckers tasted like colored chalk and deceit.

"Oh, I know." Quinn nods, and Santana looks back at her quizzically, cause what? "They're terrible." Quinn agrees, scoffing a laugh at her reaction. "Which is why I'm giving them to you. Mr. Schue gave a box to everyone in Spanish on class Friday."

That would explain the Spanish sayings on them, but the rest of it, not so much. "So you're giving me crap candy you don't want?" she scoffs, lifting her gaze from the little green _Me Gusta_ heart between her fingers.

Quinn chuckles at her expression. "Had to counterbalance all the sentiment somehow." she shrugs. "Too much sap makes your skin crawl, remember?"

Santana laughs in spite of herself and flicks the little pastel heart at the unsuspecting blonde. "And to think I was gonna show you my boobs on this special day."

Quinn's laughing too, up until that comment registers and then holy fuck, her smile drops so fast and she looks so wronged— it's so unexpected that Santana nearly dies from laughing so hard.

Quinn smacks her arm during her laughing fit. "Jerk."

"Hey, you're a jerk too." she grins when she finally recovers enough to properly speak. Her reflexes kicking in, she catches the blonde's wrists as Quinn tries to hit her again. "Giving me the worst candy of all time."

When Quinn begins fighting against her hold, Santana hooks her leg around hers and flips them over. "I thought candy corn was the worst candy of all time." Quinn says breathlessly, the two of them now half tickling, half wrestling each other for the upper hand.

"No," Santana could feel the candy hearts that were all over the bed now were being crushed under their bodies. "They're third on the list. Black licorice is a very close runner up."

"Yeah, well those candy hearts were worth your reaction."

"They were worth _your_ reaction." Santana corrects, releasing Quinn only after she conceded to defeat.

While Quinn catches her breath, Santana rolls onto her side and props her head up with her hand. "Speaking of which, I guess I know what you've been wanting this Valentine's day." she smirks, waggling her eyebrows. "A little peek-a-boo at my perky twosome."

Quinn's already reddened face turns an even deeper shade of crimson. "Shut up, have not."

"I don't blame ya." she shrugs, still grinning. "I mean if I were you I'd be just as eager."

"I am not eager!"

"They are pretty damn awesome." Santana shifts onto her back and drops her gaze to her own chest. She clasps her hands over them affectionately. "My two Evas."

"Evas?"

Santana nods back at her, then gestures to them each individually. "Left one is Eva Mendes. Right one is Eva Longoria. Both smoking hot Latinas. Like yours truly." Noticing Quinn's stunned expression, she scoffs, "Don't tell me you haven't named your cute little snowballs."

Quinn's mouth drops open in an incredulous laugh. "You did not just call my boobs 'Snowballs'!"

"Well no offense snowflake, but they're not exactly snow mountains. When you get cold do they turn into _snowcones_?" She points her fingers outward over her chest and snickers.

"Shut up." Quinn laughs, pushing her away.

Feeling that she was laying on something, Santana lifts her ass and pulls out the card Quinn had given her. She props herself up against the pillows and takes in the cover again. "You know they say that puns are the lowest form of humor." She steals a sidelong glance in time to catch Quinn's playful scowl. "A statement I totally stand by, just fyi."

"That may be." Quinn plucks the card and, along with hers, puts them on the nightstand before they can get anymore damaged, "But you find me endearing so I can get away with it."

Santana raises brow and laughs. "Is that so?"

Quinn nods, and for the first time, Santana sees the signs of sleepiness beginning to show on her face. "How you can stand to stay up so late when you always get up at the crack of dawn is beyond me." she murmurs as Quinn rubs her eye sleepily.

She didn't understand how it was possible Quinn was able to function as well as she did with so little sleep. If it were her she'd need both shots of espresso and Redbull in her morning coffee just to make it through the day.

Quinn curls into her pillow and shrugs. "What can I say, I'm both a night owl and an early bird."

"That's impossible."

She yanks the blonde's pillow away and tosses it aside, encouraging Quinn to use her instead.

Shaking her head, Quinn inches closer until her cheek meets Santana's shoulder.

Santana threads her fingers through blonde locks and begins gently massaging the back of her head. "You ready for bed?"

"A little." Quinn admits with a dreamy sigh.

Santana, on the other hand, wasn't. Not really. A part of her worried if she closed her eyes and slipped back into _that_ dream, she'd wake up and spaz out all over again. Or worse, start screaming in her sleep or something.

And as comfortable with Quinn as she was, she just wasn't _that_ comfortable with her being there to witness all that.

Quinn must have sensed her reluctance to turn in because the next thing Santana knows, she's rolling on top of her and declaring, "I have a game for you."

Santana peers down at the blonde sprawled out on top of her in half amusement, half curiosity. "What kind of game?"

"In honor of Valentine's day we have to come up with as many valentine food puns as we can." Quinn says, chin resting against her chest, and Santana can't help but quirk her brow at that ridiculously lame sounding game.

"Seriously?"

"What?" Quinn's lips quirk up in that smug snowflake kind of way. "Afraid I'm going to beat you?"

Santana narrows her eyes, her head tilted thoughtfully. "Have you always been this weird or is Brittany just rubbing off on you?"

Quinn hmphs.

"What a lovely thing to say to the girl who's bananas for you."

"Oh we're starting now, are we?" she laughs.

"Yes, and I'm currently in the lead."

"You don't wanna pizza me, snowflake." she warns. "I'll own your ass."

"It seems you already do." Quinn chuckles, and Santana smirks at the way the blonde's gaze travels down over her shoulder to where her hands were comfortably resting on her behind.

"They're a great pear." she innocently shrugs, before smiling in triumph. "2-1, snowflake."

At that realization, Quinn's smile promptly vanishes, her cute little game face quickly taking its place. Like Santana, snowflake could be just as competitive when she wanted to.

"Santana, brie mine."

Santana can't help her snort. "Brie? Really?"

"It's a cheese."

"A pretentious as fuck cheese, _Gwyneth Paltrow_."

"Shut up." Quinn playfully glares, shifting her head back to rest against her chest. "Your turn."

Santana purses her lips together in thought. "Here's something to taco 'bout - without you, I'm toast. Booyah," She raises her hand in a fist pump. "That's two right there."

It's a good thing she saw so many puns slapped on valentine's cards while at the store and remembered a few, otherwise she'd totally be sucking ass at this game.

"I don't wanna sound cheesy but we go really Gouda together."

Santana shakes her head at that one, it's so bad. "Again with the cheese? What's up with that?"

"I like cheese." Quinn shrugs.

"You are such a dork."

"But you feel better, right?" Quinn questions softly, now idly twirling a strand of Santana's hair around her finger, listening to her heartbeat against her ear. "Than you did when you came here?"

Santana smiles to herself as she nods. "Yeah."

Much better.

"Then I did my job." Quinn sighs, her eyes fluttering close in content. "And that's all that matters."

Santana peers down at the blonde, feeling her chest swell with a surge of affection. Or indigestion. "You're a really good girlfriend, you know that?"

"I'm alright." Quinn says through a yawn. "Still figuring it out as I go along."

"Could've fooled me." Santana smooths a hand over her hair and presses a kiss there.

After not receiving a response, she rests there in silence for awhile, content to just have Quinn in her arms. Then something occurs to her.

Grinning in realization, Santana tilts her head to the side to steal a glance at her snowflake. From this position she can't tell if she's really asleep or not but she has a sure fire way of finding out.

Leaning down, she whispers near the blonde's ear.

"You totally lost your own game, by the way."

And just like that Quinn stiffens.

Definitely still awake.

"No one likes a sore winner, Santana." she hears the blonde grumble.

"Not my fault you couldn't ketchup."

Quinn groans loudly into her chest. "I've created a monster."

Santana's smile fades at that comment, her mind all too quickly returning to that stupid dream of hers. What was wrong with her, seriously?

To dream up such a fucked up scenario about someone she cared so much about?

Was this some kind of sign, should she be worried?

_Worried about what? _Santana immediately rolls her eyes at her own ridiculousness. _Turning into a goddamn wolf?_

Puh-lease.

Get it together, Lopez.

You've just been overdoing it with the horror movies lately, that's all. (Stupid Netflix queue).

Her abuela always said they'd rot her brain.

And anyways, it was just a dumb dream.

If she had stayed asleep any longer and let things play out, things probably would've taken a weird random turn just as they usually do in dreams. Had she not woken up, Quinn probably would've just ended up a zombie who wanted her to do the 'Thriller' dance with her or some shit.

So it's no big deal.

Nope.

None, whatsoever.

—

Brittany's always known Storybrooke was special. Ordinary for the most part sure, sometimes boring yeah, but like all small towns it had its quirks and its charm.

It never occurred to her that anything could be seriously wrong with it. That it'd turn out to be the kind of place to have all these dark secrets lurking beneath the surface.

Like Wal-mart.

Anyways.

The fact of the matter is a couple weeks ago she found a storybook. You know, the kind with fairy tales.

No big deal. Or so she thought.

Then she actually started reading it, and things got weird.

Really weird.

Every story was familiar to her in some way. Like, _eerily_ familiar. But not in the way you get from re-reading a book you know. It was almost as if the author had taken a bunch of people she knew from town, threw in some pixie dust, and made fairy tale characters out of them.

The similarities were so uncanny, it left her with this head-spinning revelation that she'd been right all along. That her weird dreams _were_ memories of a past life.

And the storybook was _that_ past life.

Now she knows it was one thing to believe in a past life and a whole other to believe in a past life as a fairy tale character but the proof was in the text. She wasn't reading into things.

It was all right there.

She couldn't deny it even if she wanted to.

There were moments in the book that perfectly matched up to the dreams she's been having, completely supporting her theory. And the answers it provided...suddenly all her friend's little quirks made sense. Like Santana's extra moodiness once a month, Quinn's reclusive tendencies...all the reasons for every little trait that made them well, _them_, were right in the book.

Now, it's not like she just read over the book once and BAM! had this epiphany. She's actually been sitting on this for weeks and in the process gone through like, a million different stages. There was the weirded out stage, the seriously freaked out stage, the denial stage, the 'I think the paint fumes and cat dander have finally warped my brain cells' stage, then there was...well, she can't remember what the other stages were, but either way they led her to the place she is now.

The acceptance stage.

As crazy as she knew this all sounded, it made sense. People would probably disagree, but once she got over trying to come up with more reasonable explanations (like someone in town pulling a Harriet the Spy and writing about everyone in secret, or aliens) she was able to see things for what they were.

This felt right to her. Like, it _clicked_ in her brain.

She just wished she knew what to do next. Showing Quinn and Santana the storybook and explaining her theory wouldn't guarantee anything. They would be too skeptical to believe her just like that, no matter how good of a case she made.

Brittany climbs up the last of the stairs, sighing to herself.

As much as she was dying to talk to Santana and Quinn about this (three weeks keeping to herself and she was going bonkers), she knows she needed some kind of concrete proof first before she could even think about going there.

But how on earth she was gonna get that she had no idea.

Brittany makes her way down the small empty hallway. Judging by the music clearly coming from Quinn's apartment, she'd say the party's already begun.

Good. She could use the distraction.

Feet on the doormat, Brittany shifts her brown paper bag over to one arm and opens the door with her free hand. Quinn and Santana knew she was coming so there was no point in knocking.

"—All I'm saying is if I had boobs at my constant disposal I'd be happy and drooling too."

Catching only the tail end of whatever conversation her two friends were in the middle of, Brittany steps inside and tilts her head in confusion. "Say what?"

Turning her head, Quinn immediately rushes over to help her with her things. "Hey, Britt." she says happily.

"What are you guys talking about?"

"Babies." she overhears Santana say.

She's no less confused, but okay.

Brittany lifts her gaze from the excitable pup jumping at her feet and blinks for a second at the sight she's met with. "Uh, Quinn?"

Were those...was she...?

Quinn flushes with embarrassment, then shoots a cross look over her shoulder at Santana, whose lips bore the same shade of red as the lipstick prints peppered all across her face. "I was ambushed."

"Oh." She lets Quinn to take the brown paper bag off her hands. " Well, better ambushed by kisses than by broccoli." she shrugs, kicking the door closed behind her. She drops her purse and keys by the coat rack and proceeds to slip out of her jacket. Her gaze follows Quinn into the kitchen. "What's this? Santana's playing bartender?"

"Attempting to anyways." Quinn says, setting down her bag of goodies and peering inside.

"All apart of my master plan to get you blondes drunk and naked." Santana says distractedly from behind the counter.

Once she's out of her shoes, Brittany walks over to them, a curious smile playing across her lips. "What exactly are you making?"

"Special drinks for my special girls." Santana replies. She adds a fruit garnish to a martini glass filled with what definitely looked like blue curacao before passing it over to Quinn. "Here's what I like to call a _Blue Snowflake_."

Brittany watches in amusement as Quinn takes a tentative sip. "What's in it?"

"I'm probably better off not knowing." says Quinn, nodding to herself slightly as the flavor settles on her tongue. "It's good."

Brittany eyes various liquor bottles spread out along the counter. "Where'd you get all this alcohol?" She holds out her hand when Santana passes her this cool pinkish purple cocktail that, in her head, she automatically names a _Purple Nurple._

"I raided Puckerman's secret stash." Santana casually says, taking a sip of her own red drink. Which, judging by the mess of seeds lying around the counter, had pomegranate in it.

"Without his consent." adds Quinn, shooting her girlfriend a look. Grabbing the handmade decorations Brittany had brought along, she goes to retrieve the mini stepladder from the hall closet.

Santana moves around the counter and waves it off dismissively. "His mom was onto his lying ass anyways. I did him a favor."

Brittany's lips quirk at the way the brunette moves to stand behind Quinn after she sets up the stepladder to ensure she didn't accidentally fall to her death from two and a half steps above the ground.

Brittany shakes her head at the sight. Santana standing there, with one hand holding her drink, the other resting on Quinn's behind.

When Quinn feels her touch and looks down, then back at Santana, brow arched, the brunette merely shrugs. "For stability."

"Yes because my ass is what needs stabilizing."

Santana grins and gives Quinn's butt a little pat. "Glad we're on the same page, snowflake. And speaking of asses," Santana's gaze slides back to Brittany, leading her to straighten up quizzically. Cause, wait what? "Quinn tell Britt what you made me for breakfast this morning."

Brittany crinkles her nose, unsure if she wanted to hear this particular story.

"They were hearts, Santana!" Quinn huffs out in exasperation.

"Hearts, _sure_."

Santana quickly gestures to Brittany to take her place and with a reluctant a shake of her head, Brittany complies, walking over and standing behind Quinn while Santana grabs her phone off the coffee table.

"She made me ass pancakes." Santana taps away at the screen before handing it over to her to see. "Asscakes."

_Asscakes a.k.a. Santana speak for pancakes in the shape of hearts_, Brittany quickly realizes, looking at the pictures.

"I see hearts, Santana."

"Thank you!" Quinn says from two steps above.

Santana takes her phone back with a scoff. "Your blonde bias blinds you, Britt. They're asses."

"No I think someone just has a fixation." she laughs.

"It would explain the hands constantly on my ass." says Quinn, casually side-eyeing her scowling girlfriend.

"Like you're the one to talk about fixations, Quinn." Brittany hums, shooting her a teasing glance. "I've lost track the number of times I've caught you drooling over Santana on a day-to-day basis."

"Well who can blame her." Santana smugly grins, while Quinn blushes. "I'm all kinds of hot."

Quinn steps down from the ladder carefully. "You're all kinds of something, alright." she murmurs. "But what exactly has yet to be determined."

With drinks in hand, the three of them move things over to the living room to get comfortable. While Quinn turns off the radio with the remote, Brittany plops down next to her on the sofa.

Santana's the only one left standing. "Okay, we've got the alcohol. We've got the food. Now for the entertainment." she half turns to Brittany expectantly. "Britt, you called for the strippers, right?"

Brittany slaps a hand to her forehead as her head bows back dramatically. "Crap. I knew I forgot something."

Quinn and Santana boo her in mock offense, with the latter chucking one of the sofa cushions at her. "Okay, okay." Santana sets her drink down after Brittany retaliates and turns her attention to the compilation of dvds stacked on the coffee table. "What movie are we going to kick things off with?"

"_The Princess Bride!_"

"_An Affair to Remember!_"

Santana shuts them down with a derisive snort. "Veto and veto."

Quinn and Brittany exchange knowing glances. They hadn't seen that coming _at all_.

"Santana," Brittany sighs, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, "You hate Valentine's Day."

"And I have every right to." Santana says with an unapologetic shrug. "It was invented by breeders to sell cheap chocolate and false hope."

"Which means you're just gonna turn down anything remotely romantic we suggest." Quinn continues. "So just tell us what _you_ want to see and we'll take it from there?"

"But we're not watching _Jennifer's Body_ again." Brittany stipulates with a finger raise. Even if it had Megan Fox in it, she was so done with that movie. She can't count how many times Santana's made her watch it.

To her surprise, Santana pulls this grimaced expression like the idea of a hot girl who kills people was suddenly unappealing entertainment.

"Yeah, fine with me." she dismisses, quickly returning her attention to the dvds.

Weird.

Santana usually never passes up a Diablo Cody movie, no matter how many times she's seen it, let alone the one with a little girl-on-girl action.

Shaking her head, Brittany gets up and grabs her purse. "While you figure that out," She takes out the dvds she'd brought along with her and adds them to the pile, then falls back on the sofa next to Quinn. "Here."

She hands Quinn a pink envelope and Santana a red one.

"Hold on!" Quinn bounds upright and plucks two valentine cards off the mantle. "Here."

"If any tears are shed I'm so outta here." Santana warns, ripping hers open without hesitation.

Quinn sits back down and opens her too, reading the cover out loud before Santana can. "_You are a beautiful cupcake in a world full of muffins_."

"Truer words were never spoken." Brittany nods, beaming while Quinn starts to read the inside.

There she'd just written a simple _Happy Valentine's day! Love you, Q _because drawing was more her thing anyways. Which is why she'd decorated the white space with a bunch of cute little happy kittens, cupcakes, snowflakes and dancing bacon. (Although at the bottom she'd included a quick _p.s. Quinn, I know you'll be tempted but don't try to lick the bacon, this is not Willy Wonka's lickable wallpaper)._

"Thank you, Britt." Quinn laughs, throwing her arms around her for a hug. "I love it."

"Okay, get a room you two. It's my turn."

Quinn pulls away with a shake of her head, and shifts her attention back to her girlfriend. "Well go on, what does your say?"

"_You are my favorite pain in the ass_."

While Quinn snorts, Santana rolls her eyes.

"Just keeping it real, San." Brittany shrugs.

"Yeah, nothing says_ real_ like unicorns and pink dancing breadsticks," Santana dryly agrees, flipping the card around so Quinn could see the illustrations inside.

Brittany looks away. "Never said those were breadsticks." she mumbles, lowering her lips against the rim of her drink.

She chuckles to herself, seeing Santana go saucer-eyed out of the corner of her eye.

Quinn laughs out loud.

"I'm kidding." she exclaims, shrieking a little when Santana recovers and pounces on her. Thankfully Quinn had had the foresight to snatch her drink away before it spilled. "They're totally breadsticks!"

"C'mere, you!"

Brittany squirms when Santana grabs her face and presses a smacking kiss on her forehead.

"Ugh." she pushes Santana away, crinkling her nose. "Thanks San."

Quinn takes out her phone and snaps a picture of Brittany nearly going cross-eyed trying to look up at the lipstick print left on her skin. "Just be grateful she stopped at one." Quinn says, referring back to her own lipstick heavy face.

Santana stands back up and raises her shoulders unapologetically. "It's a good look on you."

"If I tried this with you you'd murder me." Quinn scoffs.

Santana goes weirdly tense again. "Would not."

Brittany frowns.

_Ok seriously, what is up with her?_

Santana clears her throat and looks away for an uncomfortable second. "Anyways." She returns her gaze nods at her. "Britt, open your cards."

Brittany stares at her for a moment, still trying to figure out why she was acting so weird, before going along with it. "_You know your life would suck balls without me_." she reads, and smiles in spite of herself.

That she's absolutely positive.

_"Stating the obvious here, but whatever. You're ridiculously lovable, B."  
_

"A fact she doesn't at all use to her advantage." Quinn murmurs casually.

"Can I help it if I have you two wrapped around my finger?" Brittany shrugs. "Not my fault you guys are so infatuated with me. You're lucky, if you guys weren't so hot, I'd be a little creeped out."

"Oh, really?"

Brittany's smile fades at Quinn's tone and when she glances back at the blonde, her and Santana are staring at each other with raised eyebrows and conspiratorial smirks. Whatever telepathic conversation they're having is giving Brittany the feeling she should run before it's too late.

Uh-oh.

She tries to pull a Kim Possible and escape over the back of the sofa but her friends are too fast. All at once she's on the floor being attacked with tickles, red lipstick, and dog slobber (from, you know, Marshmallow who decided to join in).

"Okay, okay! I take it back!" she says through breathless laughs, failing miserably at defending herself from her three attackers. "I don't have you guys wrapped around my finger."

"The hell you don't." Santana nods.

Which leads her to cheekily add, "Not all the time anyways."

Santana smacks her thigh on the way up.

"Horrible." Brittany huffs, reluctantly taking the Latina's offered hand. "You're both horrible."

"Now that this sap fest is over can we get back to picking a movie?" Santana inquires, moving back around to the coffee table.

Brittany rubs at her face, then grabs the pile of dvds she'd brought along. "How about," she rifles through the cases until she finds a specific title. She might not be ready to mention her storybook theory but that didn't mean she couldn't conduct some experiments. "_Red Riding Hood_."

"Veto." Santana says without looking up.

Brittany frowns.

If the name Red Riding Hood had rung any bells Santana didn't show it.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to watch some crap movie about a lame ass love triangle and an overgrown dog eating people." Santana scoffs, still trying to find a movie to no success.

"But I thought you liked wolves."

"I just don't feel like watching that movie, Britt." Santana sighs, finally lifting her head. "If I had to I'd rather watch that alien-eyed blonde whine about her daddy issues in Mamma Mia."

And that's saying something considering how Santana hates musicals.

Brittany and Quinn exchange glances. The weird behavior was back, apparently.

"Well while you two decide, I'm going to wash my face." Quinn says, walking around the sofa. "This lipstick is starting to irritate my skin."

"You were supposed to wear it for twenty-four hours, now you have to chug the next the drink I make you." Santana reminds.

"Never agreed to that ridiculous rule, Santana." Quinn says over her shoulder before disappearing into her bathroom.

"Whatever, you still lost!"

Santana throws her hands up suddenly, annoyed by her own indecisiveness, and walks over to the kitchen.

Brittany gets up and follows her.

She slides onto one of the stools and rests her elbows on the counter, carefully asking, "You okay, S?"

Santana's brow creases in the middle of wetting a hand towel under the sink. "Yeah, why?"

Brittany raises her shoulders. "You just seem a little..." She purses her lips, looking for the least offensive word. "...off."

Santana's frown deepens at that assessment. "Just a little tired." She lifts her gaze and shrugs it off. "Didn't sleep well last night."

"Strange dreams again?"

There's a small scoff to Santana's tone as if she'd describe things a little differently. "Yeah. Strange."

Brittany tilts her head, encouraging the brunette to meet her gaze. "You wanna talk about them?"

"No," Santana shakes her head and passes her the towel. "I mean, it's not like they mean anything." she backtracks, realizing her quick response.

"Sometimes they do." Brittany lightly disagrees. "I mean, they might, you never know."

"I highly doubt it."

Her gaze follows Santana as she begins poking around the appetizers Quinn had made. Brittany begins wiping her face clean with the towel.

"If you really believe that then why am I not convinced?"

Santana straightens up but doesn't look at her directly. "I think," Her gaze flits across the counter before grabbing the nearest bottles to her and a new glass. "I think you need more alcohol, B."

_Yeah, liquor me up, 'cause that'll make this go away. _Brittany thinks with a slight roll of her eyes.

"Are you at least talking to Quinn about them?" she sighs, putting down the towel.

"Brittany." Santana warns in that borderline annoyed tone of hers. It's obvious by the way she kept tensing up that she wanted the subject dropped already. "There's nothing to talk about."

"If you say so."

She'll drop it for now, knowing well enough that if she pushed Santana enough she ran the risk of sending her into a full-blown mood and she didn't want that ruining their Valentine's day fun.

"I say so."

Quinn returns from the bathroom, fresh faced and (thankfully) oblivious to their conversation. "What'd I miss?"

At her expectant gaze, and Santana's refusal to meet it, Brittany picks up one of the stuffed mushroom appetizers and inquires. "If I eat this will I go on a psychedelic trip? Like Alice in Wonderland?"

"It's not a magic mushroom so no." Quinn chuckles.

"Well that's disappointing."

Santana clears her throat, seemingly regained her composure. "Here, Britt. I'll make you a drink that'll have you on such a trip you'd think you were on the Magic School Bus."

Brittany pops the mushroom into her mouth and chews. "Sounds like a drink after my own heart."

"Or your liver." says Quinn, watching with dismay as Santana went back to playing bartender...and further dirtying up her kitchen.

Brittany just shrugs.

Since a couple months ago, she's learned that if she can handle Rachel's insane master concoction of brandy, vermouth, port wine, scotch, Kool-Aid, crumbled up Oreos, and cough syrup, she can handle anything.

—

As it turned out, Brittany could handle the first couple drinks Santana had made her, but the later ones...not so much.

Ugh. Alcohol.

She knows what it does to her, but does that stop her from treating it like apple juice?

Nope.

On the bright side her hangover isn't nearly as bad as the one she had the Monday following Rachel's house party. She's been sleeping it off in every class she's had today so that's helped.

But right now she's starving because apparently sleep burns up a ton of calories and last period she dreamed up a conversation where Britney Spears was telling her (and Tina for some reason) to try ranch dressing on pizza, so naturally she had to get her hands on some stat.

(Britney may be a total name-stealer but when it comes to food recommendations, she's never steered her wrong before).

"Aw, what?"

Brittany stares at the overhead bulletin in disbelief. Nowhere on the menu was there any mention of pizza.

If she'd been paying attention, she would've known the second she walked into the cafeteria that the smell mixed in with that predictable waft of tater tots was not pizza, but meatloaf, and she would've been able to save herself from this disappointing discovery.

"Well this sucks." she pouts, turning away from the cafeteria line. As hungry as she was, she wasn't gonna stick around for the icky alternatives.

(She has a rule: if food looks like deer poop and/or like it's already been digested, she doesn't eat it).

Maneuvering through the tables, Brittany stops when she finds a familiar face to sit with.

"Hey, Mike."

Mike looks up from his sandwich as she sits down opposite him. "Hey, Britt." he greets back, voice muffled by food. He waits until he's swallowed before politely following up, "Have a good Valentine's day?"

Brittany smiles to herself and nods, thinking back on her weekend. "Yeah. We had a fun girl's night in. Watched a ton of movies, played some board games, made s'mores. Oh, and we drank. A lot."

At one point in their drunkenness she distinctly remembers Santana flashing them her boobs and Quinn promptly passing out. Whether it was from all the alcohol or the shock of seeing her girlfriend's assets for the first time, either way Brittany nearly peed herself from laughing so hard.

"You?"

Mike just shrugs. But the way he steals a glance across the cafeteria to where Artie and Tina were sitting, laughing, doesn't go unnoticed.

Brittany reaches across the table and steals one of Mike's cheetos. "Why don't you just ask her out?"

Mike stares at her, completely taken aback. "_Because she's with Artie_."

Brittany shakes her head and sighs. It didn't come to a surprise that Mike - ever the gentleman - was absolutely scandalized by the very idea of going after another guy's girl, but it was exasperating just the same.

"Yeah, but Artie's a terrible boyfriend." Well-meaning for sure, but like most teenage boys, Artie had a thing or two to learn about how to treat girls. "I mean, no offense to Artie, but Tina could be doing so much better. She could be doing you!"

Mike turns such an endearing shade of red that Brittany has to stifle a smile. He recovers with a quick shake of his head though. "And anyways I don't think she likes me like that." he says quietly, his gaze dropping down to his lunch.

"Show her your abs, that'll change." she remedies easily enough.

But seriously, jokes aside, she knows better than anyone there was more to Mike Chang that his sick dance moves and killer bod. She just wished he'd let others see that. He was so shy. And sometimes around Tina it was almost as painful as her stutter.

Uncomfortable, Mike decides to change the subject. "Where are Quinn and Santana?"

"Sucking face in some classroom or supply closet."

Nowadays it was no secret that the two were together, or at least everyone in glee club knew. (You'd have to be blind not to notice the changes in behavior their upgraded relationship status brought out, with Santana being less of a sourpuss and Quinn less closed off.) But out of fear of facing Santana's wrath, it was made an unspoken rule that no one mention the obvious until they decided to 'come out' themselves.

"If it wasn't for actual class those two would never part mouths." she goes on to say.

Mike smiles a little.

"Must be nice to be so in love like that."

Brittany looks up at him curiously. She was always learning new things about him. "You've never had that?"

Mike shakes his head. "I mean," His brow furrows unsurely. "I don't think so. You?"

Brittany also shakes her head. "Nope. But I'm not worried." she shrugs. "I've got the rest of my life for all that romantic goodness to play out."

Besides she had way more important things to worry about.

Speaking of which.

"Hey, Mike." Her lips purse together as Mike gives her his attention. "Do you believe in magic?"

Mike chews for a thoughtful moment then swallows. "I believe there is more to life than what we see or what we can explain through science, if that's what you mean. Not so much the magic like in fantasy novels but more of an everyday sort of magic."

What Brittany likes about Mike, well, _one_ of the many things she likes about Mike, is that when she asks questions, even if they sound ridiculous or dumb, he gives her his honest answer.

"Why do you ask?"

Brittany hesitates. Because even though it's Mike and she knows he wouldn't ridicule anything she had to say, this particular subject had her feeling inclined to play it cool.

"I've just been reading a lot of fairy tales lately." she shrugs. "And it got me thinking about stuff."

"Like?"

"Like," It takes her a minute to figure out how she wanted to do this. "Like how we learn about history from books. And how we're expected to just accept that what's written in those books is what really happened in the past."

"More or less, yeah." Mike nods, encouraging her to go on.

"What I'm wondering is why storybooks are considered less real than history books?"

"Well, Britt, history books are based on history."

"And storybooks are based on what? Imagination." she answers, knowing her previous question had sounded kinda dumb. "But where do those stories come from? They has to come from somewhere, right? What if they're based on events that actually happened too?"

"They could be loosely based." Mike concedes with a slight nod. "The authors might have taken inspiration from real people or settings and placed them in fantastical circumstances but people didn't record instances where princesses were cursed by witches or princes slayed dragons, Britt." _Obviously because they're not real, _Brittany adds, knowing it was what Mike was probably thinking_._ "They just made them up."

She sighs. "I guess it just doesn't make sense to me that people can't believe in magic and fairy tales but they can believe in a carpenter turning water into wine or any of that other unbelievable stuff that happens in the Bible. How is that not considered a fairy tale?"

Mike just gives her his bag of cheetos when she tries to grab for another. "Some people do, depending on who you ask." he chuckles.

Brittany's halfway to lifting the bag to her mouth when her phone beeps, signaling a new text. Wiping her orange fingers on her jeans, she picks up her phone to see it's from Santana.

_I'm not joining you pervs,_ she instantly thinks, before opening the actual message.

"_SOS. Auditorium_." it reads.

Brittany has no idea what trouble they could've possibly gotten into there and part of her isn't sure she wants to finds out.

Mike notices her sigh. "What's up?"

"No idea." She stands and pockets her phone, gathering her things nonetheless. "But Human Brain to the rescue."

Mike glances up at her, unsure if he heard right. "Huh?"

"My superhero nickname for myself." At Mike's blank stare, she explains, "Brains are awesome. I'm awesome, and I also happen to be human. Therefore I am the Human Brain."

Even with that reasoning, Mike just nods.

"Right."

Brittany leaves him to it and exits the cafeteria.

When she reaches the auditorium and finds the place completely empty, she frowns for a second, then heads on backstage.

She knows from er, personal experience that one of the prop rooms has a couch perfect for..._certain_ _extracurricular activities._

She pounds on the door once she's in front of it. "Rosario! Emily! If clothes are off now's the time to put them on!"

"Brittany just get your ass in here!"

"Please!" she hears Quinn add.

_Not the first time two girls have said that to me_, Brittany thinks to herself with a small smile.

After opening the door and taking that initial step forward, she stops short at what she finds on the floor.

Or, should she say, _who_ she finds.

Brittany stares down at them incredulously. "Seriously?" she scoffs. "You guys couldn't even make it to the couch?_ It's right there_."

Santana turns her head as much as she can toward her and huffs. "Well we _were_ on the couch but Quinn has this annoying dislike of being a bottom so she smartly decided to roll us over onto the floor."

"It was the heat of the moment." Quinn defends indignantly, sprawled out beneath the Latina currently with her upper half propped up by her hands. "I forgot about the lack of couch we had to work with. And _you're_ not one to talk, Santana! If you hadn't rolled us over that second time this never would have happened!"

Santana opens mouth to argue but Brittany smartly intervenes.

"Okay. Okay." She closes the door behind her, _just in case_, and shrugs off her backpack. She makes her way over to the pair. "What's exactly wrong? Why are you in that position?"

"Her hair got caught in my earring and we can't get it out." Quinn explains exasperatedly.

"You mean _your_ earring caught _my_ hair." Santana corrects, her tone bubbling over with annoyance. "She's got a damn Venus Flytrap dangling from her lobes."

Brittany sinks down to her knees beside them, figuring it best that she get to work right away before Quinn and Santana really got into it.

Or got into each other.

Again.

Whenever they argued it was never clear if it was gonna lead to them tearing each other's heads off or tearing each other's clothes off.

(Neither of which she really wanted to be around for).

Anyways.

"You know, people expect this kind of thing from me, not you two." she teases, trying to distract from the tension. "And they say I'm the "special" one of the group."

"Things like this do happen to you, B." Santana snaps, growing impatient. Obviously making out with Quinn hadn't done much for her mood. She's been a grumpy cat all day today. "Remember that time you got your hair caught in your hair dryer?"

"Or what about the time you tripped and fell headfirst into the trashcan?" Quinn adds.

"For your information that was my own personal homage to Mean Girls." she mumbles, trying not to scowl. "Totally intentional."

Totally not, but that's her business.

"Sure it was." Santana drawls, and Brittany stops what she's doing to pinch her side. "OW!"

"Do you want my help or not? 'Cause I can totally leave you guys here."

Quinn gasps in outrage. "Don't you dare!"

"Then be quiet and let me work my finger magic."

"Wanky."

Then, "OW, fuck! Watch it, B!" Santana growls. "I'd like to make it out of here without any bald spots, thanks."

"Well if Quinn would stop squirming!"

"Well if Santana would stop _pushing_ her pelvis into mine!"

"You weren't complaining about that twenty minutes ago!"

Brittany rolls her eyes and huffs, with half a mind to find some scissors and separate them the easy way. With all the bickering going on she can't focus properly. "Santana, for the love of god, stop bunny humping her."

"I am just trying to make myself comfortable." Santana glares. "Forgive me if my arms are starting to give out on me after so long."

Brittany scoffs disbelievingly. "I've seen you hold a full body plank position for a 45 minutes without so much as a quiver."

"Yeah but I didn't have a hot blonde beneath me, teasing me, then did I? Nope."

"How on earth am I teasing you?" Quinn demands to know. "I'm just lying here waiting for this to be over."

Brittany can't help herself.

_"That's what she said."_

It takes some effort, and some patience, but eventually she's able to remove Santana's hair from Quinn's earring.

"There." Brittany pushes off her knees and pops up in triumph. And relief. "You're no longer conjoined."

Santana rolls back on her heels before standing and offering a hand to Quinn. "We owe you one, B."

"Truly."

"Yeah, well can repay me with a large pepperoni pizza with extra ranch dressing. Hold up, you!" She grabs the collar of Santana's jacket and yanks her back from taking another step closer to Quinn. Ignoring Santana's quizzical expression, Brittany pulls the hair band from her wrist and promptly ties Santana's hair back in a ponytail.

"Now you."

She turns her attention to Quinn and holds out her hand expectantly.

Quinn smiles in amusement. "_Yes, mother_." she sighs. She takes off her earrings one at a time before placing them in Brittany's awaiting palm.

Satisfied, Brittany steps out of the way and gives them the go ahead signal. "Now you two may proceed with the lady loving activities."

Santana's still rubbing her head from the sudden ponytail attack. "What would we do without you, B?"

"Well," Brittany thinks about it for a second as she grabs her backpack off the floor. "Considering I helped get you two together, you'd probably be doing other people right about now."

And with that.

"Human Brain out."

—

Two classes later, Brittany's in the middle of math class, _not_ paying attention, when the unexpected happens.

A knock comes to the door, interrupting Mrs. Hagberg's lecture and when she goes to answer it, a pizza delivery guy steps through. "Yes?"

Brittany feels her mouth drop open because a chorus of angels might as well have accompanied his arrival.

The delivery guys clears his throat. "I'm looking for uh," He squints his eyes to read the name written on the order form. "_Britney Spears?_"

Mrs. Hagberg turns to the class with a barely concealed roll of her eyes. "Alright," she drawls, "Who's the wise guy?"

"Brittany S. Pierce, actually." she corrects, hand shooting up in the air.

Cause, _pizza_.

Nodding, the delivery guy awkwardly shuffles between the aisles over to her desk. "One large pepperoni with extra ranch dressing. Already paid for."

Brittany takes the pizza like Beyoncé herself was handing it over to her. "Thank you."

_And thank Quinntana._

She knew she'd befriended those two for a reason.

As soon as she has the pizza settled on her desk, she opens the lid and for a couple seconds she's mesmerized, because pepperonis have always reminded her of nipples, and her mind takes her places.

Sapphic places.

When she finally snaps out of it, she looks up to find Mrs. Hagberg staring at her.

Brittany shrugs innocently. "We're working with fractions today, right? Well," She lifts up a slice. "I'm a visual learner."

Mrs. Hagberg just sighs.

—

Dodgeball.

It's a game you either look forward to or dread. Those who suck at it usually lean toward the latter.

Santana's not one of those people.

She likes dodgeball, and not just 'cause she's good at it, but because it's a great way to take out your aggression - or whatever shit emotions you're dealing with - without running the risk of getting sent to the guidance counselor and/or put in anger management classes.

Thanks to today's weather her class is confined to the gym with all the other P.E classes. And while the teachers are getting the balls out of the equipment locker, everyone stands around the court side bleachers, waiting.

Most of them could care less when, or if, the game ever started, with the exception being Santana who was alternating between pacing and impatiently rocking back on her heels.

She's been a little on edge lately, that bad dream she'd had the night of Valentine's day having triggered a mood that's continued through the school week. The dream just wouldn't leave her brain, hard as she tried not to think about it. And every time she tried to sleep, there it was or other ones like it, whether she liked it or not.

It was frustrating, had her restless, and was making her just downright unpleasant. As the week wore on it only seemed to be getting worse, with everything and everyone pushing her patience like it was their job. Today especially the universe seemed to have no problem pushing her buttons. From her spilling coffee on herself this morning to flunking a pop quiz, nothing was going her way.

She's bitten off the heads of a few people as a result and landed herself a few million detentions already; needless to say she really just wanted to blow off some steam and throw some balls.

But before she can even do that much, the universe decides to deliver her one last kick in the teeth.

Being that her mind is clearly elsewhere, she doesn't pay any attention to the teacher moving down the informal line of students, numbering each person as a one or a two. If she did she probably would've moved to somewhere other than the space in between her two blondes.

With her spectacular luck she gets labeled a two while Quinn and Brittany are both ones. If today were any other day she'd simply get a 'one' kid to switch just so she can be on the same team with her friends but since it isn't, and she's just about done with everything, Santana doesn't even bother.

She crosses the center court divider with a slight huff. While their teacher assembles a line of balls down the middle, Santana takes stock of her teammates. Even if it is just gym class, she's competitive and likes to win and would prefer to have at least a few others who could help get the job done, instead of just standing around like useless pinheads.

The eye roll happens of its own accord when her gaze lands on one particular teammate of hers.

Dave Karofsky.

She hated a lot of people, but she _really_ hated him. He was such an asshole.

And he just loved to target glee kids.

Speaking as a self-proclaimed bitch she could totally understand the appeal that comes with making fun of them - hell she did it herself, because after all glee club was well, _glee club_. (Hella lame and kinda, sorta super gay sometimes). But that was one thing. Going out of his way to try and make their lives a living hell was a whole other.

He left her alone for obvious reasons (even if he looked it, Karofsky wasn't _that_ stupid) and Quinn and Brittany were safe by association but the other gleeks weren't so lucky.

Her nose crinkles just thinking about that awful cherry syrup stank that served as an unwanted air freshener to the choir room all of last week because the slushie facials had been nonstop.

Obviously no valentines had been in Karofsky's locker this year.

Karofsky must have felt eyes on him because he turns his head suddenly and when he sees its her, gives her one dumbass looking sneer.

She throws him one right back, if only to show how fucking stupid he looked.

Seconds later, a sharp whistle blow snaps them out of their little glare competition.

Santana turns her back on him to get as far away from him as possible, in no mood to deal with _that_. It was for the best anyway. If they didn't stay on opposite sides of the court and ignore each other, they might come to blows, "teammates" or not.

Fortunately all thoughts of Karofsky leave her mind as soon as the game starts.

A few race toward the center line to get a ball, but Santana opts to stay back. Her legs are spread and knees are bent, braced to either jump, dodge, or catch.

And even though Quinn and Brittany are on the opposite team, it doesn't once occur to her that they'd ever like, go after her.

Not until they actually do and she finds herself tucking and rolling out of the way of two flaming red balls - wow, talk about Déjà vu - coming straight toward her.

While she recovers quickly, she's still in shock her snowflake and Britts had fucking double-teamed her like that.

(Meanwhile across the court they're laughing and giggling and bumping fists like two smug blonde ass dorks).

Shaking her head, Santana grabs a stray ball as it rolls past, having just bounced off Jacob Ben Israel's jew-fro, and lobs it through the space between the two girl's heads. Both jump out of the way but she gets a kick out of their surprised expressions all the same.

Her shrug is maybe not so innocent as she meets their collective gazes. While Brittany huffs and goes to retrieve another ball, Quinn mouths "Ass" to her.

_Her 2nd favorite body part of mine for sure_, Santana thinks with a smirk before returning her focus to the game. _After my boobs, of course._

As the game wears on, Santana starts to feel better.

Getting people out was satisfying but it was her two blondes that had her smiling.

Brittany was always a goof and doing weird shit - even if she was a deceptive one (her ninja moves were hella distracting and nearly got Santana out a few times) - and Quinn was apparently catching some of that weirdness, running around in a strangely competitive but still ridiculously cute kind of way.

It's half the reason both blondes end up going in and out several times, unlike her. As much as her blondes try she's too good to be outed.

Santana swipes up a ball before hopping back a few spaces, twirling the ball in hand while searching for a target. Her gaze quickly finds Quinn who's taken to sticking out her tongue and waving her fingers by her head, trying to goad her into throwing the ball her way.

Santana just shakes her head.

Snowflake was too damn cute for her own good.

Santana opens her mouth to tease her about her game, or lack thereof, and rile her up in good fun but words escape her when a speeding red ball suddenly takes out Quinn's legs from under her, sending her to the ground with a slight smack against the polished gym floor.

Somewhere in that distant, rational part of her brain, Santana knows she's fine - it's dodgeball, no one ever gets seriously hurt - and Quinn was already pushing herself upright and dusting herself off no problem, but when she looks over and sees the Karofsky factor of it all, it sets her off beyond reason.

She doesn't even realize her feet have carried her over to him until she's slapping the ball out of his hands and catching it on the bounce up. "Hey watch it you hairless ape."

Karofsky turns his head and scoffs his disbelief, giving her one of those _are you serious right now?_ looks. "It's dodgeball, Lopez. Not my fault she wasn't paying attention. 'Sides everyone with half a brain knows the easiest way to get an out is to go for the legs."

"Doesn't mean you gotta try and put her in a fucking coma." she growls, shoving the ball into his chest hard enough to make him fall back a step.

Karofsky covers up his fleeting embarrassment with his trademark jaw tensing scowl. "Watch it, Lopez. Your gay is showing. Again."

Santana tenses up in spite of herself.

"Fuck you."

God, what a lame comeback.

Judging by the size of Karofsky's smirk, he agreed. "In your dreams. Though god knows you need it." He shoulder checks her on his way past her. "From what I hear you could use some straightening out."

Santana turns around.

Admittedly it takes a second for that comment to register.

"What did you just say to me?"

"You heard me." Karofsky reluctantly stops when she comes around and side steps in front of him. He leans in close and spits, "Dyke."

If Santana wasn't already seeing red, she was now.

Most of the time, when she finds herself in this type of situation and a person stupidly antagonizes her, she just mouths off a clever as hell, brutally cutting personalized remark she _knows_ will scar them deeper than her nails ever could.

But now is so not one of those times.

Verbal abuse isn't gonna cut it.

It only takes one solid punch to drop Karofsky like Goliath, but that doesn't stop her from keeping the hits coming. She jumps him and sits on his chest, decking him once, twice, over and over until she loses track altogether.

"Get off me you stupid dyk—"

Karofsky's trying both to defend himself from her attacks and get her off him but neither one is working out so well for him.

"CALL ME THAT AGAIN, I FUCKING DARE YOU!"

"Santana!"

Multiple things happen from that point on but she's barely aware of any of it. She just keeps slamming her fist and screaming Spanish, relishing in the feeling of just being able to let him fucking have it.

It isn't until strong arms wrap around her in a vice, grabbing her, and lifting her off Karofsky that she reaches a new level of unhinged. She doesn't care that the game had stopped, that everyone was watching her, that teachers were yelling at her, that she was probably in deep shit trouble, all she cared about was the people in her way.

And getting them out of it.

As soon as she sees Karofsky being helped to his feet by a few teammates, she breaks free from her restraint and pushes hard to get to him. Karofsky lunges at the same time, face all red and blotchy and bloody, spitting his own insults, determined to even the score a little. Unfortunately they're both yanked back, preventing that from happening.

"Both of you knock it off this instant or so help me!" one of the teachers shouts.

This time it's Brittany and Quinn who are holding her back, and once they get the approved okay, they _drag_ her out of the gym to take her to the nurse. And from there she only gets carted off to the local hospital because when it comes to legit injuries, school nurses were jack shit helpful.

It's totally unnecessary, she thinks, which is why she's rolling her eyes, nodding absentmindedly as the doctor in front of her shows her her x-rayed fractured metacarpals.

"I barely even touched him." she complains, interrupting Quinn's explanation of what had happened. "I mean can I help it if I tripped and my fist broke his face? Total accident."

"A minute ago you claimed it was self-defense." Dr. Wu reminds, looking up at her with an amused smile.

"You guys are like Betta fish." Brittany comments, off to the side spinning around on the doctor's swivel chair. She and Quinn had naturally joined her here even if they hadn't exactly gotten administration consent to tag along.

Santana turns her head and groans when she sees what the doctor has for her.

"Is a cast really necessary?"

If her abuela was here she'd say to slap some ice on it and give her some Advil and she'll be fine.

Dr. Wu nods as he fixes her cast together. "If you want your bones to heal and go back to hitting boys you hate, I'd say yes."

"Please don't encourage her, doctor." Quinn grimaces. While she stands off to Santana's shoulder, Brittany's taken to stealing tongue dispensers.

"He's just saying what any guy who makes his living off people getting injured would."

"Santana." Quinn warns.

"It's okay." Dr. Wu assures. Obviously he's dealt with patients like her before. "Contrary to what you might think, Santana, I'd rather not see you in my office again if you can help it. I don't wish bad health on anyone. Even if it does pay my mortgage."

Once her cast is secured and he's finished his overview on the do's and don'ts while wearing it, he hands her a slip of paper. "Here's a prescription for some painkillers. Come back in a few weeks so we can make sure your bones are healing properly, alright? Any questions?"

"Dr. Wu." Unsurprisingly, Brittany has her hand raised. Though what will come out of her mouth this time, Santana will just have to see.

"Just out of curiosity, did you have anything to do with the formation of the _Wu Tang Clan?_"

—

"I hope you know you'll probably be suspended for this."

Santana can't help but roll her eyes at Quinn's unnecessary reminder.

She was well aware of that (now that the adrenaline high had worn off anyways), just as she was aware of how much trouble she was going be in with her abuela when she came home.

Sure she'd convinced the paramedics not to call her abuela even though she was her emergency contact but there was no way of keeping this little incident from her. She's pretty sure the school had already left a voice message on their answering machine.

And if they hadn't they definitely were going to.

"Whatever." she sighs.

She hops off the examination table and takes another look at her eyesore of a cast. It wasn't an obnoxious color or anything, but being stuck with it for the next six to eight weeks was gonna drive her nuts. "I could do with a break from school anyways."

Santana moves toward the door - only to have Quinn pull her back by her elbow.

"Not so fast. You mind explaining yourself?"

Despite knowing this conversation was bound to happen eventually, Santana decides to feign ignorance. _"What was what?"_

"The whole reason we're here, Santana." Quinn sighs, looking less like that playful snowflake in gym and more like that no nonsense snowflake Santana's seen on more than one occasion. "You flew off the handle for no reason."

She opens her mouth to argue that but Quinn sharply interrupts her. "And don't you dare say Karofsky knocking me down is reason enough. It's dodgeball for crying out loud, it's the point of the game."

"He ran his mouth so I put him in his place," she shrugs. "It's no big deal."

_"No big deal?"_ Quinn echoes incredulously. "Do you have any idea what could've happened if those other guys didn't hold him back? He would've knocked your teeth out. He's got over a hundred pounds on you, Santana, not to mention—"

Santana holds up a hand, stopping her girlfriend right there. "Okay 1. you give Karofsky _way_ too much credit. Like, seriously, I'm offended. Just because he's built like an ox doesn't mean he'd hold his own against a Snix beating. And 2. You are freaking out over shit that didn't even happen, Q. So _relax_. I'm fine."

Quinn scoffs at her harshly, her brow raised. "You're fine. Really?" She gestures to their surroundings. "_We're in a hospital, _Santana_. _On the ride here you were fuming so hard you were practically hyperventilating."

"Not to mention your hand was so swollen it looked like it belonged to the Michelin Man." Brittany nods.

"I resent that observation."

"_Santana_."

She rolls her eyes. "Okay, so I kinda lost my mind for a second there. But it's not like Karofsky didn't deserve it. The guy's a grade A douche and he's had a smackdown long coming."

"He's an asshole, sure," Quinn concedes briefly, "But that doesn't mean you needed to go off on him like some out of control animal and beat him to a bloody pulp."

Santana's scowl deepens at that particular comparison.

"Guess we know it is a full moon this week." Brittany murmurs.

Santana snaps before she can stop herself. "Cut it with the damn dog jokes already, Britt."

"Santana." Quinn warns.

She exhales deeply and nods, knowing the second the words had left her mouth that it had been uncalled for. "Sorry, Britt."

"It's okay."

When Santana returns her attention to Quinn, she finds the blonde shaking her head at her. "This is what I'm talking about. What is it with all the outbursts lately? I know you have a short temper but come on, you have to admit this is a little much even for you."

Santana crosses her arms. "What you call a short temper, I call a quick reaction to bullshit." she says, her shoulders scrunching up defensively. "Can I help it if it fluctuates from time to time?"

"Next thing we know you'll be starting fights for people breathing the same air as you!"

Santana snorts at the very idea. "And people say I'm dramatic. Look," she sighs, "If you're looking to get some kind of apology out of me, it's not gonna happen. I've got nothing to apologize for. And I can't promise you I won't ever hit Karofsky again, so don't ask me."

"It's unnerving how unconcerned you are."

"I'll say it once, I'll say it twice: _he had it coming_." Santana turns and yanks open the door with her good hand. "Now can we go? I'd like to fill my prescription and get out of here. This place reeks of death and old people. No me gusta."

As she leads the way down the hallway, Santana debates whether or not she even needed painkillers. It would just be more money to fork over and she had a pretty high pain tolerance anyways. It's not like a couple Advil wouldn't do the trick just the same, right?

Then again, she never knows when some strong painkillers might come in handy...

Busy contemplating this, it doesn't occur to her that her blondes had stopped walking behind her until she reaches the corner. Santana backtracks and turns, confused to find them a few feet back.

Something had caught their attention.

Santana doubles back to them, frowning. "What is up with you two?"

They've both got weird expressions on their faces and they're standing in front of an open doorway looking in like total creeps. Santana peers inside the room to see for herself what was so damn interesting. She goes in half-expecting a ridiculously hot nurse or something, but all she finds is a ginger-headed girl, a little younger than they were, attached to a bunch of machines and catching some zzz's on her bed.

Santana pulls back quizzically and glances back at her blondes who were both still staring at the girl.

Was she missing something here?

"Uh, Q?" she gently prompts, waving a hand in front of the blonde's unreadable face.

The action snaps Quinn out of her daze, leading her to quickly shake her head.

"What?"

Santana stares at her, brow raised in concern. She juts her chin toward the girl in the room. "You guys know her or something?"

Quinn glances over her shoulder like she didn't even realize Brittany had stopped too.

"What? No."

Santana's eyes narrow at Brittany's suspiciously fast response, then at the way Quinn's gaze slides back to the redhead.

"Quinn?"

Her brow creases in concentration but by the look of it, whatever words she was trying to find weren't coming to her. "She's..." Quinn shakes her head dismissively. "Come on." She turns toward Santana, hand touching her arm. "Let's go get you your drugs."

"Excuse me?"

An older nurse passing by happens to notice their lingering presence. "Can I help you girls?"

Santana expects Quinn or Brittany to speak up, considering she still had no idea what the hell was going on, but when she looks over, it seems they've both lost the ability to speak.

Santana sighs.

Looks like it was up to her to ask the question that was, at the very least, on _her_ mind.

"Who's the girl?"

"A Jane Doe I'm afraid." the nurse sighs, glancing through the doorway with sympathetic eyes.

"What's wrong with her?" Brittany asks.

The nurse furrows her brow, trying to think for a moment. "I can't say for sure. She's been like that for as long as I can remember."

"And no one's claimed her?"

In the short span of them talking to the nurse, out of the corner of her eye, Santana notices that Quinn's attention had already drifted back to coma girl.

Like she just couldn't keep her eyes off her.

Santana has no idea why the sight bothers her so much, but it does.

Maybe it was because she didn't know what it meant. Maybe it was something else.

Either way she wanted Quinn to snap out of it.

Now.

"—you'd think if she were from Storybrooke her friends or family might come looking for her at some point." The nurse was saying. "My guess is she's an out-of-towner."

Santana can't help her scoff. "Since when does this town ever get visitors?"

In that moment the nurse is called away by a co-worker, so she just offers a shoulder raise in response and tells them to come find her if they had any questions.

The second they're alone again, Santana faces her two blondes and waits for one, or both, to clue her in to what the hell this was about.

But of course that doesn't happen.

Quinn clears her throat, suddenly out of her trance-like state. "Let's get going." she says instead.

"Good idea." Brittany readily agrees.

It's all Santana can do not to shake her head in disbelief as Quinn and Brittany walk past her without any explanation whatsoever.

Okay.

_What the hell?_

—

Quinn honestly doesn't know what that had been.

One second she was walking, following behind Santana, the next she was stopping in front of some random girl's room. Her body had reacted long before her brain and even then when it did catch up, she was still at a loss. Her brain just couldn't give her the answers she needed. She could feel that she had them, knew that she did, somewhere, but there was a fog she couldn't get around.

Had she not been so confused at the time it probably would have been maddening.

Shaking her head, Quinn opens the door and walks into the Jones family restaurant.

When she'd left Santana's grandmother's restaurant just now the two had been engaged in a not so quiet discussion in the kitchen and she figured that, given the day Santana's had, she was going to need something to placate her girlfriend with.

And powdered sugar pastries always seemed to do the trick.

"Hey Mercedes." she greets, walking up to the counter. She gives a small wave over to Mrs. Jones who was in the dining area, taking guest orders. "Could I get an order of beignets to go?"

"Hey girl." Mercedes greets back, looking up from the change she was counting. "And yeah, a fresh batch should be out in a few minutes if you don't mind waiting. Let me go check on the progress."

While she waits, Quinn takes her wallet out of her purse. Behind her the the bell above the door chimes but she doesn't anything of it, not until she hears herself being personally addressed.

"Hey Quinn."

She turns around.

It's Sam.

"Hey, Sam." she smiles.

As he pulls off his gloves, Sam nods at her curiously. "You picking up dinner too?"

"Just grabbing some beignets for Santana." she shakes her head.

"How is she by the way?" His brow furrows questioningly. "I heard she attacked the entire football team during gym?" He knew it wasn't beyond Santana's capabilities but it still sounded a little far fetched.

"I heard it was the hockey team." Mercedes interjects, pushing through the swinging door that divided the front from the kitchen. She flashes Sam a smile. "Hi, Sam. Your order's just about done."

Sam smiles right back. "Thanks, Mercedes."

The way Sam's face reddens does not go unnoticed by Quinn.

"It was just Karofsky." she explains, forcing herself not to grin at the cute lingering stares being shared.

Since Brittany had convinced her to ditch the rest of the school day after the hospital, if only to keep an eye on Santana, they hadn't been there at glee practice to clear up the rumors. "She broke his nose and in the process her hand, hence the hospital visit."

Sam finally breaks eye contact with Mercedes. He turns toward Quinn and sighs. "What'd that ape say now?"

"Yeah, how'd it start?" Mercedes asks, curious to know.

Quinn shakes her head, still in a state of disbelief over the whole thing. "Karofsky knocked me down in dodgeball and Santana got all bent out of shape about it, 'cause god forbid I ever get hurt and of course Karofsky had to go run his mouth and make things even worse for himself..."

"And so Santana retaliated with her fist." Mercedes finishes with a knowing nod. "That sounds about right."

"She might want to look into a career in UFC fighting or something after graduation." Sam comments. "She'd make a fortune."

Quinn sighs heavily.

She's always known Santana liked to talk a big game about going off on people she hated but she never expected her to live up to it.

(At least not with physical violence anyways).

"I just don't know what gets into her sometimes."

"I do." Sam answers. "Snix."

"Order up." Comes a voice from the kitchen. Mercedes turns around and grabs the bags through the window and places the bags on the counter. Sam steps forward, hand already on his wallet.

Quinn politely stands off to the side while he pays.

"Well I'll see you guys later." he says, taking the bags with a grateful smile. "I gotta get this to the fam. Bye Mercedes, take care."

Quinn watches Mercedes watch him go. She waits until Sam's out of the door before shifting to regard her in full. "So, what's going on there?"

While her voice breaks Mercedes from her Sam induced trance, her question is totally lost on her. "Say what?"

"You clearly like him."

Mercedes scoffs. "Girl, you trippin'."

Quinn merely raises her brow, not at all convinced. "Do I really need to bring up the fact that you totally checked out his ass just now?"

Mercedes drops her head, blushing hard. "Okay," she relents with a small sigh. "Maybe, I dunno, I like him _a little_."

Quinn smiles.

"You should ask him out."

Mercedes tilts her head and gives her one of those scoffing looks that Quinn's only ever seen directed at Santana or Rachel. "Girl, are you crazy?"

"Why not?" she chuckles. "It's obvious he likes you back."

"That's just him being friendly." Mercedes dismisses easily. "He's like that with everybody."

"Friendly yes," Quinn concedes before giving her a pointed look, "But _you're_ the one he stares at during glee club."

Mercedes stops her sudden idle clean up of the counter top. Then casually lifts her head. "He stares at me?"

"And I'm not just saying that because you're my friend and it's what you want to hear." Quinn promises.

"Guess it's true then," Mercedes sighs. As she shakes her head, Quinn frowns, waiting for her to elaborate. "It's never long before a friend in love turns matchmaker on you."

"I haven't turned matchmaker." she frowns. "I'm simply pointing out a truth. Sam watches you in glee club."

At that, Mercedes raises her brow.

"In an endearing way, not in a weird stalker way!" Quinn quickly clarifies, realizing that statement had sounded way less creepy in her head.

Mercedes cracks a smile. "He's probably just staring in my general direction." she reasons, lightly shaking her head. "Zoning out thinking about Avatar or Mathew Mc_whatshisface_."

Quinn rolls her eyes in mild exasperation. "_Mercedes._ Boys are not as oblivious to your charm as you think."

"Maybe not _all_ boys." Mercedes quietly agrees. "But it's usually the ones whose attention I _don't_ want that are the ones I get stuck with. Like Jacob Ben Israel."

"At least he has good taste." Quinn offers with a weak smile.

Mercedes snorts. "You forget he also has the hots for one Rachel Berry. That's the very definition 'bad taste' if I ever heard one."

Quinn hesitates, knowing Mercedes had her there. "Back to Sam," she gently prompts instead. "If you ask him out and he says no, what's the worst that could happen, really?"

"He could reject me and completely shatter my self-confidence."

"He would not shatter your confidence." Quinn scoffs, staring at her in disbelief. "You are not nearly that fragile. Realistically we both know if he were to reject you'd be a little bummed for a while but you'd get over it."

"Not to mention it'd be hella awkward between us in glee club."

"Only if you make it awkward." Quinn points out.

"That's a rich statement coming from a girl who did just that in her own love life." Mercedes scoffs, hands resting on her hips. "_After Rachel's party?_ If you'd taken your own advice, maybe you'd have gotten with Santana sooner, rather than spending those few weeks _awkwardly_ avoiding each other like the plague for no damn reason."

Quinn ducks her head and crinkles her nose before chancing a look at Mercedes. "You're always going to lord that over me, aren't you?" she sighs.

"Pretty much." Mercedes nods. "But hey, that's what you get for giving me that weeks long headache and refusing to take _my_ advice when I told you to just talk things out with your girl."

"Okay. That's fair, I guess." But Quinn shakes her head — this wasn't about her. "Look, I didn't listen to you and spent weeks wallowing in self-inflicted misery."

"And if it wasn't for Brittany who knows how long you two would've taken to get together." Mercedes finishes knowingly. "When her birthday comes around you owe her just about the biggest damn cake you can find by the way. Or a unicorn."

Though Quinn completely agrees she isn't about to let herself get distracted. "My point is I didn't take your advice and I should have."

"And now you think I should take yours, right?"

"You'll get a free dinner out of it." she shrugs. "Maybe even a movie."

"_If_ he says yes." Mercedes feels the need to remind.

"Which he will."

Mercedes eyes her skeptically. "Considering how long it took you to realize Santana liked you, forgive me if I doubt your perceptiveness."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "If you won't take my word for it, just ask Santana what she thinks about you asking Sam out. If there's any likelihood that it won't play out in your favor she'll be the first one to tell you."

"Happily, no doubt."

"She's not _that_ mean."

Mercedes simply raises her brow at her in that _Uh, have you met Santana?_ way.

"Okay she's not that mean with the people she likes." Quinn amends. "Which includes you, whether she admits it or not."

Mercedes purses her lips together in quiet contemplation, but ultimately ends up shaking her head. "As tempting as it sounds, between school and work and glee, I just don't have time to take on a boyfriend."

"You're not even out of high school yet and already you're a bona fide workaholic." she comments while Mercedes turns and grabs her order of beignets. "You know it's okay to relax sometimes, right?"

"_I do relax_."

"When?" Quinn's eyes narrow. "Aside from school and church, I don't think I ever see you outside this restaurant."

Mercedes raises her shoulders defensively. "So I'm trying to make a little extra cash, get a nest egg going for after graduation. Is that so terrible?"

"Of course not." she sighs.

"My daddy always said the only way to get what you want in this world is through hard work and that's all that I'm doing." Mercedes continues. "It's not like I wanna be working here forever. I've got dreams. Big ones."

"Which I totally get." she answers softly. "And I'm not saying you should make Sam your boyfriend or you should do anything drastic. What I'm saying is that once and a while it wouldn't hurt to get out. Do something with someone you like. Whether it's with Sam or not is entirely up to you. It doesn't even have to be a romantic thing. I'm only bringing this up because I know better than anyone how far a little change in your routine can go and how worthwhile it can be. That's all."

Quinn hands over her money and watches Mercedes consider her words.

"I'll think it over."

Mercedes hands her change to her and levels her with a stare. "But in meantime no mention of my liking Sam to Santana, alright? I don't need her teasing me about wanting to spawn with a trout."

Quinn nods obligingly.

"You might wanna try sneaking some vegetables into your girl's food bowl by the way." Mercedes adds, throwing in some extra napkins into her bag. "I'm pretty sure all that yeast has gone to her brain and is the reason she's so crazy."

Quinn's eyes widen in mock indignation. "You tell me that _after_ I buy these beignets?"

"Hey I'm no fool." Mercedes laughs. "I wasn't about to lose a sale."

"Rude." She takes the brown paper bag out of Mercedes' hands. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She turns around to leave but Mercedes stops her at the last second. "Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

Mercedes holds out her hand. "Thanks for the talk."

Quinn cracks a smile and meets her fist bump. "No problem."

—

By the time she's left Mercedes, Santana had already left the restaurante and returned to home, her abuela having no use for a one-handed waitress (or so Santana put it in her text message) so Quinn heads over there instead.

Ten minutes later, she's waiting on the front step, mentally preparing to deal with her most definitely still very crabby girlfriend.

Quinn holds up the beignets as soon as Santana answers the door. "For you."

"Uh, thanks."

Though Santana takes the bag, her brow's furrowed warily, like she wasn't sure where this gesture was coming from.

Leading Quinn to feel like she, too, was missing something. "What?"

Santana shakes her head.

"I just thought you were like, mad at me."

Quinn frowns in confusion. "I'm not mad at you."

Santana raises her brow disbelievingly. "Really, cause back at the hospital it sure felt like it."

Sighing, Quinn opens her mouth to explain, only to close it when she realizes where they were. Even if Santana's grandmother was back at the restaurante, talking about their relationship in and around the woman's house still made her anxious.

"You wanna walk me home?"

Thankfully Santana doesn't seem to think anything of the suggestion. All she cares to ask is, "Can I bring my beignets?"

Quinn smiles, her girlfriend so unintentionally cute, and nods. "Of course."

Santana grabs her keys and locks up before following her to the sidewalk.

They make it a quarter of the way in silence, Quinn busy trying to find the words to start, before Santana decides to give her a little push, "So..."

"So," Quinn takes over from there. "I wasn't mad at you. Just annoyed." She clears her throat, then elaborates, "Sometimes you act without thinking and that worries me. It's like you forget actions have consequences."

Judging by the loud scoff that comes from her, Santana disagrees. "Uh," She lifts up her casted hand. "I'm aware of that, snowflake."

"And yet you still do it. Like whatever happens, happens."

Santana stops in front of her and shakes her head at her. "You act like getting into fights is a daily thing for me. Which it's not."

"No, but sometimes you allow yourself to get so riled up and today was a real eye-opener. I'm just...I'm just afraid one of these days that tendency is gonna bite you in the ass and you're going to get hurt." she sighs. "Really hurt."

When she looks up into Santana's eyes she finds them narrowed in a way that's almost like she doesn't believe her words.

"Who exactly are we talking about: me or you?"

Huh?

When Quinn doesn't respond right away, it leads Santana to push, "Are you worried _I'm_ going to hurt you? Is that it?"

"_What?_ Of course not."

She's lost. So lost right now.

"Where did that even come from, Santana?"

Santana just keeps shaking her head, like she's not listening to her at all, and maintains, "Because I'm not going to hurt you. Okay? I'm not. I know I've been doing a crap job at keeping my cool lately but I'd never, I won't, _I'm not going to hurt you_."

To Quinn it sounded more like Santana was trying to convince herself of that than her. But that's something she can dwell on later, she thinks, more concerned with why her girlfriend was rambling on and shaking like she'd just triggered something in that head of hers.

Acting on instinct, Quinn grabs Santana's arm and pulls her into the alleyway. Once they're out of plain sight, she cups Santana's face, willing her to calm down. "Hey, hey. It's okay. I know that. Just focus on breathing—"

Ironically it's her breath that escapes her when Santana suddenly drops the bag of beignets and wraps her up in a tight embrace, all the while mumbling into her neck things she can't quite hear.

It's quite scary if she's being honest, this role reversal (usually she's the one who gets the freakouts), but she's not about to say that out loud to Santana and make things even worse.

"Santana?"

She knows talking was probably the last thing on Santana's mind but she figured the only way she could help her is if she knew what on earth was going on, so she should at least try to get her to explain.

Before she can though, Santana abruptly releases her and steps back, seeming to have gotten her bearings back.

Quinn searches her eyes.

"What—"

Several questions flood her mind at once but Santana shuts her down before she can even attempt to find a starting point.

"It's nothing. Nothing." Santana says quickly, shaking her head, pushing down whatever it was that made her react so strongly. She points behind her, her feet already backtracking their way out. "I'm fine, I just, I gotta go."

Quinn steps forward, not convinced in the slightest.

"Santana."

But Santana just tenses her shoulders like _"Nope, not talking about it"_ and keeps backing away.

The last thing Quinn hears before she finally bolts is some mumbled apology.

"Santana, wait!"

Quinn runs out of the alley after her but by the time she reaches the sidewalk, Santana was no longer anywhere in sight.

_What on earth?_

—

Brittany knew the second she laid eyes on that freckled face girl that Quinn walking past her room and actually _stopping_ was no coincidence.

After all, aside from the coma thing, the girl completely matched the description of the Snow Queen's sister from the storybook. It was almost too good to be true. Here she was needing some kind of proof that this idea of hers wasn't crazy and the universe goes and gives her this.

If this wasn't a sign she was on the right track, then she doesn't know what is.

Now she could start toward the next step. She didn't know exactly that entailed, but if she learned anything in science class, with any hypothesis, she had to run tests.

She had to strategize.

Which is why she stayed up all night deciding on a course of action. She wanted to be able to put it in motion as soon as possible.

So when school rolls around the next day, she decides that the right moment to talk to Quinn would be during lunch. Since Santana's incident had gotten her a few weeks of detention, it would just be the two of them.

Instead of meeting at the cafeteria, she meets up with Quinn in the library, a place Santana never liked (too quiet for her). By the time she gets there, she finds Quinn already at a table.

Quinn has an open textbook in front of her but her eyes are not on the page, not really anyways. Brittany knows her mind is elsewhere, probably worrying about Santana. Quinn had told her about Santana's little breakdown yesterday. She couldn't get her to talk to her then and was having even less success today. It was obvious whatever Santana was dealing with was something she was determined to ignore, even if it meant having to avoid Quinn in the process.

And during the few instances where Santana couldn't hide, like in glee club, they've been relatively quiet around each other, that moment hanging in the air between them unpleasantly.

Brittany wanted to do something about it but since she hadn't been there, she didn't feel right bringing the moment up and demanding they talk about it.

She'd just have to let them do that themselves.

Brittany shrugs off her backpack and slides into the chair opposite Quinn. "Hey."

"Hey."

For a moment, Brittany hesitates. With Santana clearly on her mind, maybe now wasn't the time to be dumping this on Quinn. She needed her to take it seriously and not just dismiss it.

But then again, maybe a distraction from Santana is exactly what Quinn needed.

Decisions, decisions.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Screw it, she's gonna go for it. She can't keep making excuses to not do this.

"Sure."

She drops her bag on the open chair next to her and pulls out the storybook. "Have you ever seen this book?"

Brittany sets it down on the table and turns it around so that the title faced Quinn.

"Can't say I have." Quinn says with a shake of her head. Nevertheless she pulls the book closer out of intrigue. "Why?"

In spite of her disappointment, Brittany pushes forward. "Just wondering. It's an interesting book. You should read it sometime."

She watches closely as Quinn peers inside. "It's fairy tales."

"Yeah." Brittany drops her hand when she realizes she'd been biting on her thumbnail. She doesn't know why she's so anxious. "But it's kind of different. The stories intertwine. I mean, like, the different characters interact with each other."

"You know, there's a character in there that kinda reminds me of the girl we saw at the hospital." she brings up in what she hopes is a casual tone, all the while silently willing Quinn to keep looking through the book.

"Let me guess, Sleeping Beauty?"

Brittany smiles but shakes her head. "No. A different one." She really wants to elaborate, spill the beans about everything really, but she knows she had to be smart about this and stick to her well thought out tactics or risk blowing the whole operation.

"It makes me sad thinking about her." she says, resting her arms against the table. "Being all alone in that hospital without any friends or family."

"It certainly is a sad situation." Quinn agrees, attentively thumbing through the storybook pages.

"People could be out looking for her and have no idea she's here. Or worse, what if nobody's looking for her at all? What if nobody cares?"

Quinn lifts her head and Brittany does her best to smile against those wary hazel eyes trying to figure out what she was getting at.

"You know what we should do, we should be her friends."

Quinn blinks at her, not expecting that turn.

"Huh?"

"She doesn't have anybody." she explains simply. "No one should live their life alone."

"Brittany," Quinn starts off gently. "She's in a coma. I highly doubt she's feeling lonely, or anything at all, right now."

"Maybe she is." Brittany raises her shoulders. "Maybe that's the reason she hasn't woken up yet. Because she's _waiting_ for someone to give her a reason to."

Quinn drops her head with a sigh. As her eyes shut, Brittany fights a triumphant smile, knowing she had Quinn right where she wanted her. "Okay, so what exactly do you want to do?"

"We should visit her from time to time. Read to her, talk to her." She read a study last night online that talked about comatose patients having increased amounts in brain activity when they're spoken to on a regular basis. And even more so when those voices were ones the patients were familiar with.

Like family.

If she could get Quinn to talk to her, who knows what might happen.

"Okay, Britt." Quinn relents. "But don't go getting your hopes up. Just because we visit her doesn't mean she's going to miraculously wake up within a few days."

Brittany shrugs. "You never know."

—

Ugh.

A day later and Santana's still cringing over what happened yesterday.

She can't believe it even happened. What was that anyways?

Her completely losing her mind, that's what.

_Jesus_.

One second her and Quinn are talking, everything's normal and fine, and the next something in her brain just short-circuits on her and suddenly she's spazzing and all panicky and weird.

Like a goddamn chihuahua.

(Minus, you know, the accidental peeing).

Now, okay, she guesses it wasn't a _completely_ out of the blue thing. She'd been fine at the hospital, convinced that whatever pressure had been building inside her this past week was finally released when she'd given Karofsky his beatdown. But then the reality of her actions started to sink in (no thanks to her abuela) and, while she didn't feel bad or anything, it dawned on her how close she came to acting out her dream.

(Of course she didn't kill anyone like in her dream but she still lost control and attacked someone).

And that was enough to really fucking scare her.

What if she loses her shit again and does something even worse?

What if the next time she hurts someone she cared about, like Quinn?

Snixing out was one thing, but _this, _whatever you wanted to call it, was a whole 'nother level of crazy she wanted no part of.

She just wishes her subconscious, or whatever part of her brain that has the loose wires making her _loca_, would get with the program already.

She can't be having any more meltdowns. Quinn was obviously worried about her enough as it was. And yeah, Santana didn't like keeping her in the dark, but she just couldn't bring herself to dump any of this shit on her.

It was her shit. Hers to deal with. On her own.

And anyways, what was she supposed to say, really?

_Hey Quinn, lately every time I close my eyes I see the stupid apple picker from the grocery store - the one you may or may not still talk to, I don't know - in my head, taunting me, even though I've never even fucking met the guy and I've been having really graphic dreams of killing you. And if I don't get a handle on all this soon I'm not sure what's gonna happen, but yeah that's what's going on with me. Now you tell me, what the hell was up with you ogling Little Orphan Annie at the hospital? You got a ginger fetish I don't know about? Do I need to worry about you dying my hair orange while I'm asleep at night?  
_

Santana looks at herself in the mirror, trying to picture what she'd look like as a redhead, and grimaces.

She slams her locker shut.

No.

Just no.

She starts down the hallway toward her next class. All this stressing had her exhausted and she really needed this week to be over with already. She wants to go home with Quinn and sleep until this whole mess was nothing but a distant memory, but seeing as how her and Quinn have done nothing but awkwardly shuffle around each other all day, she doesn't see either one of those things happening.

Damnit.

Santana slides into her seat literally two seconds before the bell rings.

When class actually starts, she's still too in her own head to bother with anything like paying attention. It isn't until she hears a collective groan from her peers that that changes and she snaps out of her daze. An immediate case of Déjà vu washes over her when she hears the words "group" and "project" thrown around by their teacher.

Had Quinn or Brittany been in this class with her, she would've been a little more indifferent, but seeing as how they weren't, Santana has to shut her eyes and pray for patience.

She snatches up the assignment sheet as its being passed around and skims over the details.

"—you will be paired up and assigned a person of influence, someone who contributes to Storybrooke in a unique way, and will be required to interview them as part of your project..."

_God._

Only small town schools could get away with pulling this kind of crap.

Santana's pretty sure this kind of busy work would be better suited for the reporters down at the local paper, considering this is all to commemorate some dumb town event, but she holds her tongue of any snide remarks. She's got enough detentions to last her until graduation and bitching about the assignment isn't going to change anything.

"Here are the team names starting in alphabetical order. Ms. Berry, you'll be paired with Ms. Lopez."

Her head snaps up.

Wait, what?

As much as she wishes she hadn't, Santana knows she'd heard right. She was the only Lopez here and nobody else had any last names that sounded even remotely similar to _Berry_.

While their teacher continues naming off the rest of the class, Santana forces herself to take a slow, calming breath.

The universe really fucking hated her this week.

"Hello, Santana." Rachel greets, materializing in front of her desk after the class is asked to get with their partners.

It's a shame she didn't get that suspension after all.

"Go away, hobbit."

Rachel just rolls her eyes and sits down.

Around the room comes their teacher with a confiscated baseball hat filled with paper slips. Santana snatches a name without looking and unfolds the small piece of paper.

"Mayor Corcoran." she announces dryly. "Great."

Rachel picks up the slip of paper after Santana flings it her way and checks for herself. "You'll be pleased to know that this assignment will be relatively easy for us."

Santana lifts her gaze questioningly.

"Why?"

"I happen to know her." Rachel mentions with a small shrug.

Santana scoffs.

"You're friends with the mayor? What bet did she lose?"

"She's..." Rachel hesitates uncharacteristically. "She's my birth mother."

Santana looks at her for second, half expecting that to be one of Rachel's attempts at a joke. Her eyes narrow skeptically. "Okay. How does no one know you're the mayor's _daughter?_"

Storybrooke was a small town, everyone practically knew _everything_ about each other.

"We don't talk about it, really." Rachel shrugs. "Publicly that is."

Berry's been avoiding eye-contact since Santana name-dropped the mayor so it's obvious it's not a subject she's comfortable talking about. A feeling Santana knows well, which is why she ignores the obvious questions that come to mind.

For now, anyways.

She looks over the assignment sheet again and reluctantly asks, "So how do you wanna do this thing?"

"I'll try to set up a meeting with Shelby for sometime next week, or her earliest convenience. In the meantime we need to work on the pre-interview portion. To make this as painless as possible we should get started right away. When are you free? How about tomorrow after school?"

"Can't. I have work." Her abuela had quickly gotten over her initial complaints of having a one handed waitress and expected her to resume her job as per usual.

"How about Saturday?" Santana suggests instead.

"Well, I have work in the morning, then straight after that I have my dance class, but I suppose we could meet up—"

Santana frowns. "Where do you work?"

"The Coffee Hut."

Her eyes narrow disbelievingly. "I never see you there."

"Well I guess you don't come in during my hours." Rachel shrugs. "Anyways I thought it would be helpful to get some real work experience to add onto my resume. When I get to New York I doubt I'll land my first Broadway audition and be propelled to overwhelming but completely well deserved success. It might take a while and in the interim I'll need to make a living somehow."

Santana rolls her eyes. "For fuck's sake Berry, I didn't ask for a monologue." Shaking her head, she continues, "So, okay, Saturday then? I work too but I could meet you afterward or something."

She highly doubted it would take them long to think up a couple interview questions anyways.

"You know the community center?" Santana nods, Brittany practically lived there taking dance classes when she wasn't at home painting. "Just meet me there and we can find somewhere to work. How about the library?"

Santana pulls a face. She hated libraries.

"God no."

"Okay, what about my house then?" Rachel suggests. "I know it has fond memories for you."

"You coming on to me, Berry?"

Rachel shakes her head. "I was merely referring to my house party extravaganza." she chuckles. "You know the one where you and Quinn fornicated on my bed?"

"_We didn't fornicate_." Santana glares at her hotly. "And you're missing a _train wreck_ somewhere in that title."

Rachel just smiles. "Okay, so we'll decide on a location later."

—

"_Wait, the mayor is Rachel's birth mother?_"

Santana has her phone wedged between her ear and shoulder as she sorts through her maybe clean clothes. "I know, crazy right? For a second there I thought I'd been transported into a daytime soap. I don't know about you but if I find out she's got a secret twin running around, I'm leaving town asap."

_"Are you sure?"_

"Of course I'm sure. Wannabe Streisand told me herself." Santana switches her phone from one ear to the other and pushes herself up from the floor. "Where you going?"

She could hear Brittany saying bye to her parents on the other line.

"_Oh I'm gonna meet Quinn at the hospital_."

Santana stops dead in her tracks. "What? Why?"

"_Breathe, Santana._" Brittany laughs. "She's perfectly fine. She just promised she'd go with me. You know that coma patient we saw the other day?"

"Pippi Longstocking?" How could she forget. "Yeah, what about her?"

"_Well I feel sorry for her, being all alone without any one and I want to visit with her. You know, keep her company._"

That doesn't sound like Quinn's type of thing at all but if anyone knows how hard it can be say no to Brittany sometimes, it's Santana.

"_Do you want to come along?_"

Santana resists the urge to scoff. "No thanks, B."

She couldn't think of anything less appealing than hanging around in that crap hospital for a couple hours.

"_Is it because Quinn will be there?_"

"What? No. It's because you wanna sit with some half-dead girl you don't even know."

It has nothing to do with Quinn.

Nothing.

"_Santana, is everything alright?_"

Santana heaves an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, fine."

"_It's just you and Quinn.._."

"We're fine, Britt."

Santana can practically hear the eye roll. "_You say that but I know—_"

"Look B, I'd love to talk but I have go." she cuts in, glancing back at her clock. "I gotta meet Berry to work on our project."

"_Be nice to her Santana_."

Santana scoffs indignantly, insisting, "I _am_ nice to her."

"_Yesterday at school you told her you hoped her next period happened in a shark tank. That is not nice._"

Santana rolls her eyes. "Can I help it if everything about her pisses me off?"

"_Santana_," Brittany sighs, "_You say that about literally everyone. Aside from me and Quinn._"

"What can I say? I like blondes."

"_Sam's a blond and you make fun of him every chance you get_."

"Britt, please, we both know that color comes from a bottle."

"_Look, my point is Rachel may be one talkative Jewish gherkin pickle who makes my brain hurt 90% of the time but she's still a person with feelings. Being mean to her because of things she can't help isn't right._"

"Please stop defending Berry. It's grossing me out."

"_Just ease up on the insults, Santana_._ Words can hurt, even to those who act like they don't. Also, keep in mind that killing hobbits is bad juju._"

"So I'll try to refrain from strangling her." Santana sighs. "But emphasis on the _try._ You know how shotty my self-control's been lately."

"_Don't need to tell me about_." Brittany snorts. "_You nearly got us thrown out of the hospital the other day_."

"The only thing that geezer of a security guard is good at throwing out is his hip."

_"I bet the pharmacists are still traumatized from their firsthand experience with Snix._"

"I have a feeling they no longer move at a snail's pace." Santana agrees. "To show their thanks for a more productive staff, the hospital should really name a wing after me."

"_If the hospital was big enough to have wings I'm sure they'd be willing to do just that. Hey, San I gotta go. My phone's dying."_

Santana opens her mouth to let her go, only to remember, "Wait, Britt. Can I ask you something?"

"_Shoot._"

Santana sits down on the edge of her bed and drums her fingers on her knee. "Do you know if Quinn still talks to Biff?"

"_What's a Biff?_"

"You know, the guy from the grocery store." Santana exhales deeply, willing herself to remain neutral even though just saying _his_ name has already set her teeth on edge. "The one she started talking to while we were on the outs after Rachel's party."

"_Uh, I'm not sure. Why?_"

"Just wondering."

"_That's a random thing to wonder about._"

Santana shakes her head, quickly regretting bringing him up at all. "Forget I asked."

"_Santana, letting whatever crap you've got worrying your brain is only going to make you crazy. Just talk it out. Whether it be with me or Quinn or whoever, for your sake, talk to somebody. Please._"

She knows she's right, she just can't bring herself to do it.

"I'll see you later, B."

Santana hangs up without another word and moves off her bed to get ready.

Half an hour later she's inside the local community center, searching for the room number Berry had given her. At the very end of the hall is where she finds the room to Rachel's Dance 101 class.

She pokes her head through the open doorway and lingers there, eyes scanning the group of dancers going across the floor. Berry, with her obnoxious pink ballet skirt, is impossible to miss.

With a roll of her eyes, Santana steps to the side and leans back against the doorway with her arms folded across her chest. While she was here she might as well watch.

"If you are not suffering from severe body dsymorphia you don't want it enough!"

Santana follows the woman's voice, half expecting some old broad to be the one tapping out the beat with her cane, only to find that the dance instructor was anything but.

_ Jesus. Her abs are nearly as good as mine.  
_

"Alright. Alright." The woman strikes her cane down two final times. "That's enough. I'd say you guys were doing a great job and improving but it's clear to me that not a single person in this room has retained anything I've said within the last hour. Not that that's surprising. Your generation is known to have the attention span of a brain dead goldfish. That being said, get out of my sight before I'm tempted to flush you all down the toilet. Don't think that I won't."

Beside Santana, someone clears their throat.

Santana straightens up with a start, admittedly a little distracted by the strangely tantalizing, lithe body and the woman who owned it to notice Rachel had walked up to her.

"Hello, Santana."

"Ready to go?" she asks, annoyed by the sudden pop-up.

"Schwimmer!" Rachel stiffens and Santana turns to find the hobbit's teacher making her way over to them. It was hard to say which body part held her attention more.

The older blonde stops in front of them, her striking gaze trained on Rachel. Without taking her eyes off her, she waves her cane in Santana's general direction. "If your friend wants to stand and ogle she can do it somewhere else. No outsiders, Schwimmer. This happens again and I'll have you doing pirouettes until you puke."

Rachel, to Santana's surprise, immediately starts spewing apologizes even though she had absolutely no reason to. "Sorry Miss July. It won't happen again."

"Schwimmer?" Santana quirks her brow, the name just registering. "As in David Schwimmer?"

At Rachel's wordless confirmation, Santana contemplates this with a nod. "Not a nickname I would've ever come up with but one I nevertheless approve."

Rachel's teacher tilts her head, regarding her with an amused smirk. "And who are you?"

"Santana Lopez." she hears herself say, her heart rate picking up when she's given the once over. It has her weirdly proud yet uncomfortable at the same time, and goddamn, this is just like her Dani meeting all over again. Damn lesbian energy. "We go to school together."

"How unfortunate for you. Cassandra July. But you can call me Cassie."

Santana clears her throat and nods. "Cool tattoo." she says, her gaze dropping lower. She couldn't help but notice it when she first saw her walking back and forth, sports bra and all showing off the slithering dragon on her lower back that snaked around her front side. Medieval and dark, not something she'd have expected a dance instructor to have. "You a fan of dungeons and dragons or something?"

Cassie's eyes narrow but in a playful way rather than offended. "It's my zodiac. Well, that and I have kind of an affinity for them. I've always believed that we all have a beast inside us just dying to get out, don't you agree?"

Santana forces a smile as her stomach twists on the inside.

Satisfied with the impression left, Cassandra turns to leave. "See you next week, Schwimmer." Her smirk stretches almost imperceptibly when her gaze settles back on Santana. "See you around, Santana Lopez."

Santana follows Cassie's retreating figure longer than she should have. With a quick shake of her head, she looks away and is surprised to find Rachel's gaze burning right through her. "What the hell are you glaring at? You got the hots for her or something?"

She smirks at Rachel's less than convincing scoff. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm just appalled by your outright attempts of flirting with my teacher when you already have a gorgeous hazel-eyed blonde to call your own."

"Wow," is all Santana can say because Rachel Berry is something else. "For someone who talks like a walking dictionary, you obviously need to brush up on the definition of flirting. Because, for your information, that was me being polite."

"A side of you not often seen." Rachel remarks, calming down somewhat. "You can understand how I was mistaken. I wasn't aware such a thing as a polite Santana even existed."

"Fuck you Berry."

"I think it's already been established that I'm not your type." Rachel makes a point of nodding back to Cassie, whose subtle side-eyeing Santana had caught while she was pretending to listen to Rachel speak. "_Clearly_. Otherwise you still wouldn't be ogling her."

Santana pushes down the overwhelming urge to growl aloud.

"I wasn't ogling her. Just because I'm a bitch doesn't mean I don't know anything about loyalty. When I'm with someone, I'm with that someone and _only_ that someone."

Cassandra July's physical er, attractiveness might've caught her off-guard and yeah, her confidence was intriguing, but that's as far as things went.

Blonde hair and hazel eyes were not her type. _Quinn_ was her type. She didn't want anyone else.

Santana huffs. Great. Now she was back in a mood. "Grab your stuff and let's go. Your stupidity has me itching to knock your teeth out."

Rachel purses her lips together and nods. "Considering your behavior as of late, I don't doubt that for a second."

Santana rolls her eyes and walks out of the studio.

Rachel catches up to her outside and audibly sighs when they start toward the sidewalk. "Santana, I apologize. I didn't mean to be so rude."

Santana snorts. "God, Berry. First rule of snark, never apologize. Grow a fucking backbone."

"I shouldn't have passed judgment like that." Rachel continues anyways. "You just had me worried you were going to make another bad decision."

Santana turns her head in spite of herself. "Another?"

Rachel raises her brow. "Karofsky?" she prompts.

"I'd hardly call that a bad decision. Completely justifiable. And anyways you should be thanking me, have you gotten any slushie facials lately?"

"No," Rachel concedes, "But that's because Karofsky hasn't returned to school."

"Whatever." Santana looks over at her, eyes narrowed curiously. "Why do you even care if I make a bad decision or not?"

Before Rachel can answer her, Santana stops short in realization and sharply turns toward her. "Please tell me it's not because you're harboring secret sapphic hobbit feels for my girlfriend and looking to get with her. Because I tell you I can't deal with that kind of shit right now."

"I should say not." Rachel laughs. "Quinn is lovely but I don't—"

"Then why?" she interrupts, not needing anymore than that.

_If she says she's got the hobbit feels for me, I'm so jumping off the Toll Bridge._

"Believe it or not, Santana, I care about your well-being."

Ugh. That couldn't be any less comforting.

"Gross. Why?"

Rachel looks up at her and sighs. "Santana, why do you hate me so much?"

_Because your personality is god awful._

Santana nearly says it aloud but then she remembers of her earlier conversation with Brittany and with a grudging eye roll, holds her tongue. "Don't take it personally, you jewish toy poodle. I just don't like people. Not my fault you qualify as _people_."

"Quinn and Brittany are people too, are they not?"

"Yeah but their weird doesn't affect my vocal chords unlike you."

"Oh, is that why you're always off-pitch during glee rehearsals?"

Santana sets her jaw and glares at the teasing smile playing across the hobbit's face. "Watch it, you furry little gremlin."

Rachel tilts her head curiously. "Are you saying I'm cute like Gizmo?"

"God no." she scoffs. "You're one of those ones that got exposed to water and fed after midnight."

"But those weren't furry. They had scales."

Santana throws her hands up in exasperation. "Fine, I take back my insult! You're a scaly little gremlin. With a big ass schnoz."

"Always goes back the nose." Rachel sighs.

"And a terrible sense of fashion." she adds, just for the hell of it.

Santana stops at the corner and glances both ways, suddenly realizing she had no idea where they were walking to. They'd never set up a meeting place.

She's about to ask where they're going but then she sees Rachel nod at her cast, asking, "How's your hand?"

"Alright." she shrugs. "Except for when I get an itch, that's when things get ugly. One time Quinn caught me trying to use scissors to cut open the cast." Santana points to the indentations on her cast where she'd tried and failed to cut through. "Didn't do much good."

"Are those _teeth marks?_"

Santana looks down and smirks. "Yeah, at one point I thought maybe I could gnaw the cast off."

"You're strange."

"In my defense it was late at night and I might've had a couple drinks." she scowls, meeting her gaze.

Rachel just keeps shaking her head. "You're still strange."

"Yeah, well, you're annoying."

"I'll have you know that's something I'm actually trying to work on. Being less annoying, that is."

"That's ridiculous, Berry."

Rachel looks back at her and smiles a little. "Why, because I shouldn't try and change myself just so people will like me more?"

"Uh, no. What I mean to say is you can't just force yourself to be less annoying_. _That personality trait is like, engraved in your DNA. You'd have to sit in a tanning bed and nuke that shit out. Like cancer. Or rosacea."

"Do you ever think about becoming a doctor, Santana?"

"Fuck no."

"Thank Barbra."

Santana glances away when she feels her traitorous lips twitch up in a smile.

"Why, Santana, you're smiling!" Rachel scoffs her disbelief, but Santana can hear the beaming smile in her tone, so she keeps her gaze averted.

"You're delusional, Berry. It was a spasm."

"I must say I never thought I'd ever get an honest smile out of you. And to think this week of all weeks for it to happen when you've been so..." Rachel trails off at Santana's raised brow expression.

"When I've been so _what_, Yentl?"

"It's okay, Santana. No need to get defensive." Santana resists the urge to roll her eyes. Like that was going to help placate her. "I just meant to say you haven't been yourself lately."

"Having a bad week, that's all." she nonchalantly shrugs, or at least tries to anyways. "My tolerance for people's bullshit is at an all time low."

"Something's bothering you."

"Yeah," she snorts, looking up. "Didn't you just hear what I said?"

"No," Rachel shakes her head. "I mean something else. There's more to it than having an off week. It's written all over you face. I can see it in your eyes."

Santana starts to walk again. She figures they'll just go to her house. It was close by. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know enough to know Quinn and Brittany are worried about you."

Santana tries her hardest not to grimace. "What, that written all over their faces too?" she quietly huffs.

"That and I may have overheard them talking in the girl's bathroom."

"Eavesdropper, much?"

"Do you want to talk about it?" Rachel hastens her pace in order to keep up with hers, even though it's not like she's taking long strides or anything. "I can be an impartial listener if you need. And yes, contrary to popular belief I am capable of shutting my mouth and listening once and a while."

Santana had no intention of taking her up on her offer, and having some kind of sappy _Full House_ heart-to-heart, but her mouth seemed to have other ideas. "They have nothing to worry about, I'm just in one of my moods." she sighs, her gaze dropping to her boots. "It'll blow over. It always does."

If Rachel's surprised she's talking to her, she doesn't show it.

"What brought on this mood this time?"

Santana kicks a pebble in her path. "A stupid dream."

"What kind of a dream?"

"The kind that makes you question your sanity."

Her body stiffens when she realizes what she'd just admitted. God, why was she even running her mouth?

_Maybe because deep down you know ignoring your problems sure isn't making them disappear like you need them to_, Santana automatically answers herself.

"What happened?"

Her shoulders tense up as the still all too fresh memory. "I hurt someone." she murmurs self-consciously. "Killed someone, in my dream."

Santana turns away from the hobbit's sympathetic gaze. She didn't need any sympathy.

"Well just because you dream something like that doesn't mean you're going to kill in real life." Rachel replies.

"I know that." she scowls. "I just...I keep dreaming about it."

"Who do you kill, if I may ask?"

Santana stops short, her muscles going so stiff they lock her in place. Some part of her expected that question, but somehow she still wasn't prepared for it.

She exhales for a moment.

"Someone I care about." She stops, then amends, "Well it was actually two someones. They kind of morph into each other in my dreams. It's weird."

"From what I've read death in a dream can mean a variety things." Rachel says. "Killing someone can be an indication of repressed aggression, of being on the verge of losing your self-control." She tilts her head at her curiously. "Did you have an argument with these persons in real life?"

Santana shakes her head, swallowing thickly. Up until Valentine's day and that dream, things had been great with Quinn.

And as for Biff, hell, she didn't even know the guy.

"No, everything was normal."

"Maybe you're repressing something and you killing these people in your dreams is your mind's way of wanting to get rid of it symbolically."

Santana scrunches her nose unsurely, signaling a need for further elaboration. "You may be trying to 'kill' an aspect of yourself that is represented by the person killed." Rachel tries instead. "That person knows you for what you are and you didn't—"

Santana whips around, her blood running cold. "Why'd you say _what_ you are?" she demands, eyes scrutinizing. "Why not _who?_"

Rachel falters and blinks at her stupidly. "I don't know. I didn't realize—"

Santana takes a step back and exhales, willing herself to calm down. She shakes her head, scoffing, "Why do you know about dreams anyways?"

"You're not the only ones who has strange dreams, you know." Rachel says, just as Santana starts to walk away from her again. "In the past few months or so, they've been extremely...I don't know." She raises her shoulders. "They just felt like something worth looking into. So I borrowed some books from the library. I can lend them to you if you'd like."

Santana isn't listening. Her gaze had been pulled elsewhere, to across the street where lo and behold, one Biff McIntosh just happened to be. To make things even weirder he was dressed in pristine royal regalia, exactly like in her dream.

What the hell.

Suddenly Biff looks up. And, as if in slow motion, meets her gaze and pulls the biggest, slyest smirk.

Santana blinks, trying to let her mind catch up to what her eyes were seeing, but before she can even let the image sink in, it was gone. Well in a sense. Biff was still strolling down the sidewalk, only now he was dressed in normal jeans and a coat, earbuds in, and he was completely oblivious to her staring.

"Santana?"

Somewhere in the back of her brain she registers Rachel's voice, but it isn't until she calls her name for the third time that it gets her to snap out of her daze.

"What? Yeah. I'm fine."

She doesn't take her eyes off Biff though.

She can't understand it.

Why was her brain doing this to her? And why him?

—

If Quinn thought she couldn't stop staring before, she _really_ couldn't stop staring now.

God. Why did she let Brittany talk her into this?

She seemed to be doing just fine without her, effortlessly filling the silence with talk of just about anything and and reading aloud from that storybook she'd shown her at the library.

Whereas Quinn, all she's done since they got here was sit like a bump on a log and awkwardly stare at the so-called Jane Doe like a total freak.

(Kind of a good thing then that the girl was unconscious and completely unaware of it).

She just wished she knew why she couldn't stop staring.

It's not like she knew the girl. There was no reason for her to be so fixated.

And yet...

"Hey, Quinn?"

Quinn immediately straightens up. She turns her head, praying she didn't look half as embarrassed as she felt on the inside. "Yeah?"

On the other side of the hospital bed rises Brittany from her chair. "I gotta take a bathroom break." She walks around and extends the leather bound book to Quinn. "Why don't you take over while I'm gone?"

Initially Quinn opens her mouth to protest, but after realizing it would give her something to focus on other than the unconscious girl's face, she finds herself agreeing instead. "Uh, yeah." she stammers, getting up. "Sure."

Brittany's smile brightens. "Try the 'Snow Queen' story."

"_Okay?_"

Her brow furrows.

She doesn't recall any fairy tales involving a snow queen. But, then again, she doesn't recall many things.

Once Brittany has left the room, Quinn heaves a sigh and glances back at Jane Doe. "I'm sorry we're forcing our company on you." she says quietly. "It's weird, I know, but once Brittany has an idea, it's just easier to go along with it."

She sits down on the edge of the bed, her gaze dropping to the open book in her lap.

Shaking her head, Quinn begins thumbing through the pages, searching for the 'Snow Queen' story. She stops when a familiar picture catches her eye. To the right of the first page of text, which, incidentally was the page she was looking for, was an illustration of a small kingdom sitting on the water.

_Well, now I know where Brittany got that idea for that painting she gave me for Christmas_.

Her gaze sliding to the text, Quinn clears her throat and begins. "_On the edge of a fjord, surrounded by majestic mountain peaks, reigned the northern kingdom of Arendelle..._"

As she reads aloud the story of the Snow Queen and her estranged sister, Quinn starts to get the feeling she'd come across this story before. Or, at the very least, she'd heard the plot in passing. Kurt was always giving her book recommendations, maybe this was one of them and she'd just forgotten about it until now. It _was_ hard to keep track of them all.

She figures that's it.

A few minutes pass and she's up to the point where Elsa had just refused to give her blessing to her sister's marriage. Then, without argument, gave the order to end the coronation party and close the castle gates.

Quinn is literally reading over Anna's spluttering reaction when it happens.

A hand grabs hers.

_In her sister's attempt to stop her, Anna had only managed to pull off her glove._

_She whirls around, heart seizing in her chest. _

_Oh God._

_ Oh God no._

_"Give my my glove!"_

_But Anna holds it away from her. "Elsa, please. I can't live like this anymore."_

_She can feel her own eyes burning from the desperation written all over her sister's face. She didn't deserve this, Elsa knew. She didn't deserve any of this. _

_"Then leave."_

_She's only thinking of her sister's well-being but the hurt she's met with makes her feel like the worst of all villains. She turns and rushes away, the pressure gathering in her chest making it impossible to breathe, to control—_

_"What did I ever do to you?"_

_She's breaking her sister's heart all over again, only this time it's in front of a crowd of hundreds and she has no door to hide behind._

_And she just can't deal with it._

_She keeps walking toward the door but her sister isn't about to let her go without making a scene.  
_

_"Enough, Anna." she warns.  
_

_"Why? Why do you shut me out? Why do you shut the world out?"_

_She's cringing with every step, both from the embarrassment and the guilt. Not to mention from fighting back the searing ice in her veins._

_She wasn't going to be able to hold it in much longer._

_"WHAT ARE YOU SO AFRAID OF?"_

Quinn's sucked back to reality with smacking physical force. It has her jumping to her feet as though she'd been burned, leaving the story book to drop to the floor.

She whirls around, eyes frantically checking Jane Doe. The girl's eyes were still shut and her body remained in the same static position it'd always been in.

But her hand.

Her hand had clearly _moved_.

—

After a very successful run at sweet talking her way into some free jello down at the cafeteria, Brittany heads back down the hallway, super proud of herself.

She hasn't been gone long but she hoped giving Quinn a little alone time with the Jane Doe would lead to some kind of progress. Like maybe reading the book would stir up some more memories or, what she was really hoping for, help her realize those dreams she's been having actually do mean something.

_Something big._

Brittany turns into Jane Doe's open room only to nearly collide with Quinn who seemed to be on her way out. "Hey, I'm back." she assures, figuring the blonde had just had enough of being left on her own. She holds up the two jello cups. "I brought jell...o."

Her smile disappears when she looks up and really meets Quinn's gaze.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

Her face was completely white.

(Well, as white as a living person can get, anyways).

Quinn takes a step back and pushes a hand through her hair, shaking. If ever there was a girl in shock.

"She, she _grabbed_ me."

Brittany isn't sure what she'd been preparing for but _that_ sure wasn't it. "What?"

Quinn swallows and nods. She steps back enough to let Brittany into the room where Jane Doe looked...exactly the same.

"I was reading and she woke up. I mean, she didn't _wake up_ wake up, obviously, but she did grab my hand."

For the most part Brittany isn't sure what she's feeling more of. Surprise, happiness, disbelief, they kind of all blended into each other. Like fruit in a smoothie_._

Either way, she has to fight back a smile. She'd been hoping for something but she couldn't have dreamed anything like this would happen. Especially after only one day.

"I have to tell the nurse." Quinn remembers with a start before quickly running out.

While she's off doing that, Brittany sets down the jello and bends down to pick the storybook off the floor. She smooths over the page Quinn had left off on, makes a mental note of it, then closes the book.

Brittany shifts her gaze to the girl in the bed and beams.

"I knew you weren't just a coincidence, _Anna_."

Quinn rushes in a second later with a nurse in tow and begins explaining what had happened. Brittany stands off to the side and watches as the nurse checks the reading of the girl's heart monitor. Even from where she was standing she could point out the little blip of activity in an otherwise steady line.

Looking over at Quinn, she can see too. And was definitely relieved by it, if her face was any indication, that there was actual proof something _had_ happened.

"I'll be right back, Britt." Quinn says to her, after the nurse had consulted all the machines and made notations. Brittany watches her walk out with the nurse, vaguely hearing something about taking down her information. She's just about to turn her head back to the Jane Doe when, at the last second, she sees a flash of red on the floor. Quickly realizing it was Quinn's _Visitor_ name tag, Brittany picks it up off the floor.

The idea comes to her almost instantly.

Going back to her chair, she grabs a pen from her purse and writes under Quinn's name. She then goes over to Jane Doe and opens her naturally closed fist before gently pressing the sticky side of the sticker into the girl's hand.

_Just in case_.

During the walk home, while Brittany was brimming with excitement, Quinn was obviously still in a daze. So, as much as she wanted to pick Quinn's brain and see where exactly her head was at, she doesn't push for conversation.

But at the same time, she knows she couldn't let this window of opportunity go completely wasted.

When they reach the corner that will force them in different directions, Brittany stops and turns to her. "Quinn, I need you to do me another favor."

"I'm not going back there, Brittany." Quinn says firmly before meeting her gaze. "Sorry."

Though that takes her by surprise, and momentarily dismays her (_whatever, she'll deal with that later_) Brittany shakes her head. "No, no," She pulls out the storybook from her bag. "I need you to keep reading this."

Quinn eyes the book apprehensively and Brittany almost feels bad forcing it back on her, considering what a not so happy past it had spelled out for her.

"Brittany," Quinn eyes her with a tired sigh. "What is this all about? What is it with this book?"

"Read it cover to cover, _all of it_, and then we'll talk." She pushes the book into her unsuspecting hands. "I want your straight opinion. Unbiased."

"Also, don't tell Santana."

Quinn's gaze snaps up and gives her a narrowed look at that particular request. "_And why can't I tell Santana?_"

"Because," Brittany huffs. "She's Santana and I can't fight both your skepticism at once. Just..." She shoots Quinn a pleading look. "Not a word to her. At least not yet."

She needed Quinn on her side before she could even think about wrangling Santana.

"You're worrying me, Brittany."

Brittany sighs apologetically because she can tell with everything going on with Santana, this is not something Quinn needs to add to her plate. "Don't be." she assures, squeezing her arm. "Just..." She nods back to the book, then fixes Quinn with a hopeful smile. "Please?"

After a moment, Quinn breaks her gaze.

She nods with reluctance.

"I'll read it over this weekend."

Brittany waits until Quinn leaves before clenching her fist in triumph.

—

Days later and the hospital visit still had Quinn rattled.

That Jane Doe has been in a coma for how long and of all days, when she's there alone with her, her hand suddenly moves?

Rationally Quinn knows her presence had nothing to do with it, that it was simply a coincidence, but she can't help but find herself wondering _what if it wasn't?_ Crazy she knows, to even entertain the idea, but the whole situation was just so _strange_.

Even stranger was what happened when Jane Doe touched her. A second of contact was all it took for another vision - er, hallucination; whatever you wanted to call it - to flash before her eyes. The scene that struck her was a part in the story she hadn't even gotten to, yet it'd played out in her mind like a forgotten memory.

(Which she knows it wasn't, obviously).

And sure she was glad she finally knew what the heck she'd been dreaming about, but it didn't make it any clearer why she's had a fairy tale stuck in her head this whole time.

What was it about _that_ story that struck such a chord with her?

Quinn stares at the storybook on the other side of the table, willing her brain to reach some kind of epiphany. When that doesn't happen though, she sighs and averts her gaze.

Whatever.

It doesn't matter.

Shaking her head, Quinn returns her attention to her laptop and the essay she's supposed to be working on. Admittedly Brittany's storybook had taken over her life for a second there and right now she wasn't as on top of her schoolwork as she would have liked.

Focus, Quinn. Focus.

_You've let that book waste enough of your time already._

Halfway through typing a new paragraph, Quinn's phone rings.

She huffs in mild frustration, her concentration once again broken. Truthfully she really didn't want to deal with anyone today, but she's been patiently waiting for the day Santana would call and finally clue her in on what had happened last week. So far this week her behavior wasn't so much temperamental, but she was still acting weird.

A fact Quinn's certain would have bothered her so much more if she wasn't guilty of the same thing.

At a glance she sees that the caller unfortunately wasn't Santana but she figures since the phone is in her hand and she's already distracted, she might as well answer it anyways.

"Hello?"

_"Hello,"_ A man's voice greets on the other line. _"May I speak to Ms. Quinn Fabray? This is Dr. Wu from Storybrooke General."_

"This is she." she replies through her confusion. "Hello, doctor. Is this about Santana?"

She can't think of why else he would be calling her, even though she knows she's not Santana's emergency contact or anything.

_"No actually this is about our Jane Doe. I hear you were visiting with her and got some activity out of her."_

Quinn nods, remembering now that she'd given a nurse her contact information for if they needed to follow up but she'd been in such a weird state, she'd just given it to them without really thinking about it. She hadn't expect them to actually use it, considering she'd already told them everything.

And it's not like she actually knew the girl.

"Yes, I was reading to her and she grabbed my hand out of nowhere. Then it was like nothing happened." She purses her lips together, suddenly with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Doctors only ever made personal calls to deliver bad news, right? "Is she alright?"

_"I'd say_ so." Quinn can hear his smile so that puts her a little more at ease. _"By some miracle, well, she woke up. She even managed to get up out of bed. She didn't get far of course, she passed out from the excursion of it all shortly after the fact. She's recuperating now. Anyways, I was wondering if you could come to the hospital."_

_She woke up_.

That's all Quinn seemed to hear.

_Jane Doe woke up out of her coma._

"But I already told the nurses everything that happened." she stammers when her brain finally processes his request. _Why did he need her to come to the hospital?_

_"I know but I wanted to see if maybe—"_

"Doctor," She interrupts as politely as she can. "You don't understand." As glad as she was to hear Jane Doe was out of her coma, she didn't want to give the wrong impression. "I was reading to her but only because a friend suggested it and well, I felt bad. I don't actually know her."

_"Don't you?"_

"What do you mean?"

_"Well we found your visitor name tag in her hand. It had your number on it."_

Quinn raises her brow.

This was news to her.

"Well I didn't give it to her." she says with a slight scoff. "And I definitely didn't write my number on it."

"_Well someone did._"

As soon as the words leave his mouth, it occurs to her who that someone could be.

"Um, I'll be there as soon as I can." Quickly she hangs up without another word and dials a new number. This was going off gut instinct but she was positive she wasn't wrong about this.

"_Hey, Quinn!"_

"Brittany meet me at the hospital. Now."

She leaves the conversation at that.

Thirty minutes later, Quinn's waiting out in the hospital lobby when Brittany rushes through the automatic sliding doors.

"Hey, what's up?"

Quinn stands as she approaches.

"She's out of her coma." she replies. "She's sleeping right now, has been since I got here."

Thankfully.

She wasn't sure she could handle her being _awake_ awake right now.

Brittany stares in awe. "What happened?"

Quinn shakes her head. "Some time last night she just woke up. There's no explanation, she was delirious and her first instinct was to go find something I guess."

Brittany raises her brow.

"_Or someone_."

Quinn chooses to ignore that last comment. "Speaking of." she says, leveling her gaze. "Why did you give my visitor name tag to her and why on earth did you write my number on it? And don't act like you didn't, I know it was you. When Dr. Wu showed me the tag I recognized your handwriting instantly."

"I left it there just in case." Brittany admits.

"Just in case what? Brittany just tell me what is going on. _Please_."

When Brittany just bites down on her bottom lip, Quinn sighs. She's tired of this weird behavior that's seemed to plague her friends as of late.

"You read that storybook, right? All of it?"

"Yeah." With it in mind, Quinn goes over to her bag and pulls out the storybook. She tries to give it back to Brittany but she just waves her off, refusing to accept it.

Brittany sits down next to her instead.

"Did you get any weird vibes from it?" she questions instead, prompting Quinn to sit down. "See any similarities?"

_Quite a few_, but Quinn shakes her head. She isn't going to answer any questions until Brittany started answering some of hers. "Brittany what are you getting at?"

Brittany, to her surprise, blurts it out right then and there.

"I think that Jane Doe is your sister."

Quinn just stares at her.

"And you got to that conclusion, how?" she dare ask, several moments later.

"Uh," Brittany blinks, and it looks like whatever she had to say to her had just escaped her. "She has your nose."

Quinn arches her brow. "Excuse me?"

"You guys have the same nose." Brittany nods, apparently sticking with that thought up on the spot response. "I doubt you'd notice it because you don't look at your nose a lot but I can definitely see it the resemblance."

Quinn has to force down her growing annoyance. "That still doesn't explain why you're so keen about me reading that book."

"Did you relate to any of the characters in particular?" Brittany asks her instead, yet again avoiding answering her questions.

"I suppose." she admits. Before quickly demanding, "Brittany save us the time and just spit out what you're trying to tell me."

Brittany heaves a sigh. "You know how I believe we've all had a past life?"

Quinn nods, though wary. "Yes, and?"

Brittany takes in a fortifying breath and points at book in her lap. "Well I think that's it."

"What?"

"The book." Brittany repeats, more firmly. "I think that was our past life."

Quinn blinks.

"You think the stories in this book are our past lives." she clarifies slowly. "That—"

"Makes no sense." Brittany interjects with an understanding nod. "And is crazy, I know. But hear me out."

Quinn watches Brittany take the book from her and begin flipping through the pages. "Here." She turns the book around and shows it to her, pointing at the illustration on the right.

"Who do those girls look like?"

Quinn examines the picture carefully. Like all the character illustrations, the facial features were less than distinct. But even so Quinn had a pretty good idea of who Brittany thought the two blondes and the brunette were.

"You think that's us?"

"You read the book." Brittany nods. "Think about it. Santana has mood swings once a month—"

Quinn gently scoffs.

"That's called having a period, Britt."

"That are _always_ around the time of a full moon?" Brittany continues, before flipping to another page. "It's more than that and you know it."

Quinn can only shake her head when Brittany shows her an illustration of Red Riding Hood in her werewolf form. "Brittany..."

"Look," Brittany turns back to Rapunzel story. "Look at the illustrations, they're _mine_. Everything I've been seeing for the past couple months, all that I have in my sketchbook, my paintings." She gestures to the lone tower on the page. "You would know, you've seen me create them!"

"You've had this book for a long time, Brittany, you probably just subconsciously remembered the imagery and recreated it." Quinn reasons.

"But I only just found this book recently. I'd never in my life seen it or read it before then."

"Brittany..."

"What about your strange dreams?" Brittany demands instead. "All your dreams perfectly describe what happened to you at one point or another. It's the story playing out in your head because it's your memories." She holds up the storybook, showing her the majestic ice castle. "You said it yourself when I gave you this painting you've seen this castle before!"

"I probably came across this book at the library or the bookstore without realizing and just unconsciously remembered the story." Quinn exclaims, unwilling to give into Brittany's overactive imagination.

Brittany bolts upright.

"Quinn, _come on!_"

Quinn stands up as well, thought she's mindful of keeping her voice low. Relatively, at least. "Come on _what?_ What exactly do you think is going on, that we're these characters? Brittany, _we are not them_."

Brittany isn't backing down. "Months ago we made a snowman in the park and called him _Olaf_. A name you suggested! And what is the name of the snowman Elsa created?"

_Hi, I'm Olaf and I like warm hugs!_

Quinn turns her head, pushing that memory - er, thought - aside. "Brittany," she starts, pleadingly.

Brittany crosses her arms.

"_Conceal, don't feel_."

All at once her stomach drops and her muscles tense at those words. "W-what?" she splutters helplessly.

"One of the very first sleepovers we ever had you kept mumbling that in your sleep." Brittany explains, her gaze unwavering. "I never mentioned it because it sounded like a bad dream and I didn't want to bring it up."

"Brittany, that's just, those are all just—"

"Coincidences?" Brittany finishes for her with a humorless laugh. "C'mon Quinn, I've barely gotten started on the freaky parallels. You know as well as I do that I'm not just making things up. Hell, I couldn't even want to if I tried."

Quinn looks away, forcing a calming breath. "Coincidences aside, Brittany, magic isn't real."

"For all we know it is."

Quinn feels her jaw tense. "I am not a snow queen, Brittany." she insists more firmly, meeting Brittany's gaze. "Santana is not a werewolf."

"You _were_." Brittany huffs in exasperation. "Did you even read the end of the book? Everyone was cursed to a land with no magic. No magic means no powers. And yeah, this place may not have magic but doesn't mean it doesn't exist at all."

"Quinn, open your eyes." Brittany pleads when she doesn't respond right away. "This explains why we have such vague memories about _everything_. Why we can't remember our childhoods, why you can't remember your own family."

"Brittany," she warns yet again, though her voice isn't as steady as she would've liked. "We are not fairy tale characters come to life."

Brittany's gaze hardens. "Have you or have you not been having dreams about a little redhead girl asking you to build a snowman? And the night of your birthday didn't Santana catch you saying some girl's name in your sleep? A name which was _Anna_?"

Quinn ignores the distinct tug her heart gives at the name. "That doesn't prove anything." she says, flustered. "That doesn't mean Jane Doe and I..."

She trails off before shaking her head definitely. "We're not sisters."

_We can't be._

Brittany crosses her arms again. "If you're so sure, take a DNA test. Prove me wrong."

—

This town is making her crazy.

That's all there is to it.

Santana's reached the point where being cooped up in a small town has literally fucking destroyed her sanity and made her _completamente loca_.

Like cabin fever but without the flesh-eating virus.

Ugh. She needed to fucking get away from this damn town, at least for a little while anyways.

Graduation was just around the corner but spring break was only a month away. She could dip into her savings early and plan a trip to go to Boston or New York or something...

Busy daydreaming of crowded cities with traffic and skyscrapers, Santana doesn't realize she's being beckoned until this pestering sound starts up, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Pardon, pardon! Senorita!"

Annoyed, Santana looks around to find table 12 snapping her pudgy fingers and attempting to wave her over. She would have loved to just turn around and act like she didn't see the woman - for fuck's sake it's not even her table - but she'd already made accidental eye contact.

Damnit.

Sighing, she walks over and turns on the polite waitress smile. "Yes?"

Paula Deen's inbred, slightly less disconcerting cousin starts pointing at her food like Santana's both deaf and dumb. "Senorita, esos huevos no esta calienta."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh," The woman raises her brow in surprise. "You speak English."

"Just like everyone else who was born and raised here, ma'am." she dryly confirms, using all her willpower to refrain from saying something that will get her in trouble.

Again.

"Well these eggs are cold." the woman says. "I need new ones."

Santana glances down at the plate in front of her. "There's steam coming off of them."

Seriously, if she stood any closer her hair would totally frizz.

"I happen to know eggs carry salmonella and I like them cooked extra hot to kill any parasites. Rápido, por favor." She beckons Santana to take her plate, which Santana grudgingly does — only once she's sure she won't take the opportunity to smash the woman's face into her scalding eggs.

Repeatedly.

Once she's back behind the counter she dumps the plate in the trash and puts in a fresh order. While she waits she goes back to wiping down the laminated menus.

Approximately two clean menus later someone approaches the counter. Or rather, _her_.

Santana doesn't bother looking up. She'd got a whiff of the hobbit stench the second the girl walked in through the door. Weird how that worked. "This is starting to get real Swimfan real fast, Berry. Showing up where I work and everything."

"Hello to you too, Santana."

Santana finally lifts her head - against her better judgment - when Rachel takes to the stool right in front of her. "My abuela has a rule, hobbit - _no eat, no seat_."

Rachel shrugs to herself, smiling, "Fine then, I'll take a menu please."

"You're out of luck we literally got rid of all our vegan options yesterday. Nothing but meat. So you'll probably wanna go find food somewhere else. Bye."

Rachel ignores her attempted brush-off. "I'll have an iced tea, with lemon."

"Why are you here, Berry?" Santana grouses, only getting the damn drink because she didn't trust Yentl not to rat her out to the manager, aka her abuela, if she didn't.

"Curiosity." Rachel admits, before questioning, "So have you spoken to Quinn about your dreams? It's been a week."

Santana tenses up momentarily. "God," she huffs, glaring over her shoulder. "I confide in you once and now you think it's your business. What do you think, Berry?"

"I think you haven't."

Santana sets the iced tea down in front of her, her eyes rolling sarcastically. "Well there you go."

"Are you afraid she'll think less of you if you tell her?"

"They're just dreams, hobbit." she scoffs, throwing a straw at her. "Of course not."

Rachel raises her shoulders defensively. "Don't get mad at me. I'm not the one making a big stink about nothing." she mumbles, tearing the straw out of its protective cover before pushing it into her glass.

"I am not making a stink."

"Then why don't you tell her what's got you so obviously troubled?" Rachel frowns, her tone rising in slight exasperation. "I don't understand, is there more to it than just the dreams?"

Santana doesn't say anything for the longest time. Did she really want to have this talk with Berry, of all people? No, but as of right now she didn't have anyone else to talk to.

"Have you noticed how weird she's been acting?"

"Who, Quinn?"

"Yeah."

Rachel contemplates this with a slight head tilt. "She and Brittany have been whispering together an awful lot lately." she concedes.

Santana nods in agreement. She'd noticed it too. "They're keeping something from me."

Which was bizarre, at least for Brittany who, in all the time Santana's known her, has never had a problem talking to her about anything. Now all of a sudden that was out the window?

Hell her and Quinn had even blown her off today. They each gave her some story about staying home to do homework all day but what does she see during her break? Them two out and about walking together, clearly going somewhere.

Like seriously, what the fuck?

"Maybe they're planning a surprise birthday party for you?" Rachel offers hopefully.

"It's February. My birthday's in September."

"Oh." Rachel's smile falters. "Well here's an absurd idea," she tries. "Why don't you just _ask_ them what's going on?"

"What if I'm better off not knowing." Santana sighs, half-stating and half-asking.

Something about it this whole situation, it just gave her this uneasy feeling. And it wasn't like the feeling she got from worrying about whether Quinn liked her back or not or the feeling she got from worrying whether Quinn was okay with their down-low relationship.

This was something worse.

"Do you think she's cheating on you, is that it?"

"What?" Santana snaps to attention. "Where the fuck did you get that from?"

Did it occur to her that maybe all these dreams of Quinn and Biff swirling around in her head were her brain's way of trying to tell her something was going on with them? _Yeah_ but that didn't mean it was fucking true or that she believed it.

But wait, did Yentl know something she didn't?

"Nowhere." Rachel assures. "Your ridiculous behavior called for a ridiculous answer."

Santana sets her jaw firmly as she eyes Rachel. "I call bullshit, Berry."

"Well last week when you walked me home from working on our project—"

"I didn't walk _you_ home." Santana interjects. "I needed to go to the market after we were done and it was on the way to your house."

It wasn't at all because she maybe kind of sort of liked talking to Rachel.

Nope. Not at all.

"Sure, Santana. Anyways, when you weren't pretending to listen to what I was saying, you were sending death glares to just every male you happened to see on the street. Behavior that usually only occurs when it comes to Quinn. I thought maybe what was going on was bringing up insecurities about your relationship."

_Still doesn't explain why Rachel's small hobbit brain jumped right to Quinn cheating on her_, Santana huffs, trying to ignore the gnawing unease that had settled back in her stomach. Damnit. "For one, Berry. I don't have insecurities about my relationship. And two, you really need to get a life and stop speculating about mine. It's pathetic."

"Insecurities are a perfectly normal thing to have—"

"Order up!"

Perfect timing.

"I'm well aware of that, Berry." Santana says, turning around and grabbing the plate of food. "Now if you'll excuse me while I spit in these eggs and serve them."

To her dismay, Rachel resumes her talking once she's back behind the counter. "You know I had a dream the other night involving eggs. You and I were in a chicken coop."

Santana feels her face scrunch up in absolute disgust. "Ew, Berry I don't want to hear about your weird sex dreams about me. Now or ever."

_And in a chicken coop, really? God, even her kinky fantasies are lame as fuck._

Rachel scoffs at the very idea. "It was just a dream where we were talking, Santana." she calmly explains. "I was hiding in your chicken coop for some reason and you said I had crazy eyes."

"That's putting it mildly."

"Santana!"

Santana involuntarily jumps when her grandmother suddenly pops out of the kitchen. "Yo te pagan por trabajar no para hablar con tu amiga!"

"Lo siento, abuela." she quickly apologizes. She waits for the woman to disappear before rolling her eyes. "Look, as fun as talking to you is," And she means that with all the sarcasm in the world. "I gotta get back to work."

"I should get going too." Rachel takes out her wallet and lays her money for the iced tea on the counter. "But this conversation isn't over yet."

"God," Santana throws her head back in an exaggerated groan. "What's a girl gotta do to get you to leave her alone?"

Rachel leans forward across the counter. "Talk to your girlfriend, Santana."

Santana folds her arms across her chest, mildly exasperated, then eyes the short brunette expectantly. "If I talk to her, will you leave me alone?"

Rachel tilts her head. "You really want that?"

...

"Get out of here, Berry." she orders, covering up that moment's hesitation. "Your freakish schnoz is making my customers lose their appetites."

Rachel hops down from her perch, her tone no less chipper than when she came in, "Bye, Santana."

Santana turns away with a derisive shake of her head.

Hobbits.

So fucking weird.

—

Absurd.

Absolutely absurd.

That's what she was.

That's what this whole situation was.

"Quinn, calm down." Brittany gently orders from beside her.

Calm down? How can she calm down?

She's got lab results in her hand proving she has a living, breathing, sister in the next room and a doctor who just dropped the bomb that this hospital has actually had her on file this whole time but only now just realized it.

If she had known last week when she'd agreed to take a stupid DNA test that this would happen, she would have never gone along with it.

She'd only meant to prove a point to Brittany, not actually get a sister out of it.

"Maybe we should have you sit down." Dr. Wu suggests, taking concern with her labored breathing.

Quinn shakes her head quickly, forcing the panic attack down as much she can. "I just want to know how this even happened."

"Why she was classified as a Jane Doe when we've had her identity on file this entire time is a mystery to me. Someone just wasn't paying attention, I guess." Quinn stares at the manila file with the printed label _F. Fabray _on it as it's being handed to her. "I'm so sorry."

"Why did no one ever look into this before?" Regardless of the amount of apologies Dr. Wu has given her, she's still pissed off - at least under all the anxiety she is - and reasonably so.

If it hadn't been for this mix up she could have been notified the second she'd been admitted. Her sister wouldn't have been so alone.

She could have been there for her.

Dr. Wu shakes his head unknowingly. "I honestly can't say." His gaze drops to his belt suddenly when his pager goes off. "I'm so sorry ladies, but I'm needed in the ICU right now." He lifts his head and nods to the room across the way. "You can go in now if you'd like."

"Thanks, doctor." Brittany says for Quinn when she doesn't respond.

The very idea of going in there now that she's conscious was beyond terrifying to her. It's why she's been putting it off for so long. And now that it was confirmed that they were sisters...

God.

_A sister._

Brittany waits for the doctor to leave before turning around to face her. "Breathe, Quinn."

Quinn bites down on her lip, trying to keep at bay the emotion welling up inside her. She shuts her eyes and forces herself to exhale. "This is too much, too fast."

Brittany touches her arms and guides her to sit down. "You don't have to go in there right now."

Quinn shakes her head and whirls out of her grasp. Even though her insides were trembling and her heart was pounding, she knew what she had to do. "No. I have to. She doesn't know who she is and thinks she's absolutely alone; I can't let that continue."

"Do you want me to go in with you?"

Quinn falters in front of the door.

She knows she'd been the one to bring Brittany here but she kind of needed to do this part alone.

Thankfully Brittany seemed to understand. "I'll wait out here."

Quinn nods her thanks. Then, with a fortifying breath, knocks on the room door.

"_Come in_."

Quinn pushes the handle open, and after receiving one last reassuring smile from Brittany, steps inside. She closes the door carefully behind her.

"Hey, you're not my nurse."

Quinn swallows hard, her breath slightly catching. It was strange seeing her so upright and well, _awake_. "No, I'm Quinn."

"So you're name tag girl!" Jane D—_Her sister_ pops up and reaches across to her bed table, plucking the red and white label off it. She looks at it for a second, then glances back at Quinn contemplatively. "You know, no offense, but you don't look like a Quinn. It's a pretty name don't get me wrong, I mean that's not to say I don't think you're pretty, cause you are, you definitely are. You're beautiful actually. Way more beautifuller than those nurses. I mean they're nice but old and you're you." Her face screws up in confusion. "Wait, what?"

Quinn blinks for a second, her mind slow on the intake.

For a girl who'd only been out of a coma for a week, she was awfully..._talkative_.

"Um," Quinn politely ignores her sister's slightly derailed train of thought. She tentatively steps closer to the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"I'd be feeling a lot better if I knew who I was."

Quinn hesitates, the file in her hands reminding her of all she needed to explain. _And god, it was a lot._

"Not to sound rude," Her sister interrupts. "But who are you exactly? Every time I asked about this," She holds up Quinn's visitor name tag. "The nurses just told me you were a girl who came in to read to me one day. I didn't really buy it though. I mean, it didn't explain why I had this in my hand. Did you give it to me for a reason?"

"I'm not going to lie," Quinn starts off with a heavy sigh, sitting down precariously on the edge of the hospital bed, "this whole thing is a long, _bizarre_ story but to answer your question simply - we're sisters."

Her sister just stares.

"Sisters."

"Sisters." she confirms needlessly.

"Oh."

Quinn nods, sharing the sentiment. "I'm just as surprised as you are."

Her sister looks at her curiously. "What do you mean?"

Quinn lifts up her file briefly. "I only found out the DNA results today."

Her sister shakes her head, puzzled.

"So, wait, you didn't know we were sisters?"

Quinn grimaces slightly, hearing how it sounded. "Let's just say you're not the only one with memory problems."

Her sister just blinks.

"Is it hereditary?"

"I should hope not." she manages to smile.

"So what about our parents?" Her sister asks instead, and just like that Quinn's smile fades.

"Um," Her gaze drops uncomfortably. "There was a boating accident..."

"Oh." Thankfully her sister seems to understand even without the details. Not that Quinn could give her many anyways. "So it's just us?"

Quinn just nods.

"Look," she starts off with a sigh. "I know you don't know me and probably don't know if you can trust me—"

"I do."

Quinn stops short and blinks. "What?"

"I know I can trust you." her sister clarifies softly.

Quinn can't help her frown. "How?"

"Well you're family." her sister says with a simple shrug. "If I can't trust you, who can I trust?"

"So, you're just going to take my word?" Her brow arches skeptically. "Just like that? You haven't even seen the results. I could be lying through my teeth for all you know."

Her sister raises her brow in amusement. "Are you?"

"No of course not." Quinn replies, flustered.

"See? I figured as much. I'm a great judge of character!"

_Says the girl who fell head over heals for a guy who turned out to be a complete psychopath._ A voice in the back of her mind thinks.

Quinn scowls at that thought and quickly turns away from it.

She should have never read that stupid storybook.

Glancing up, she's quickly unnerved to find her sister studying her.

"What?"

Her sister tilts her head contemplatively before saying, "Would it be weird if I said I felt like I already know you? I mean I know we're sisters and yeah I don't remember you but at the same time I feel like, I don't know, you're something familiar. _Someone_, I mean! You're definitely not a thing. You're a person, with a soul, a very nice soul...and I'm totally rambling again." She realizes with a grimace. "You know, I'm starting to think this is like a thing I do."

Quinn smiles gently, finding the quality endearing. (Even if made her head hurt). "Don't worry, I sometimes ramble too."

Her sister perks up.

"Thank you." she says after a moment.

Quinn looks at her curiously. "For what?"

Her sister raises her shoulders. "For being here." she simply says. "For finding me. Being alone or you know, _thinking_ you're alone, it kinda sucks."

"It really does." Quinn quietly agrees. "But that part of your life is over. No more being alone."

Her sister smiles at the thought. "Promise?"

Quinn nods, never having felt more certain. "Promise."

A little while later, when one of the nurses comes in to check on her sister, Quinn excuses herself to talk to Brittany outside.

"Hey."

Brittany looks up from phone and quickly stands. "Hey, how'd it go?"

Quinn nods to herself, breathing easier now. "Good. She's great. I mean, obviously the whole situation is _unusual_, but I think things are going to be okay."

Just being in the same room as her sister made her feel like something right was clicking into place.

"That's great." Out of her bag, Brittany hands her a water bottle and a chocolate bar, presumably from the vending machine down the hall. "Now that that's over with, all you have left to deal with is Santana."

Quinn stiffens at the reminder.

_Santana._

"You have any idea how you're going tell her about this?"

Quinn shakes her head, that relaxed feeling having pretty much disintegrated on her. "Not a clue."

"She's not going to take it well."

"What makes you think so?"

Brittany shoots her a look. "If there are two things Santana hates it's competition for your affection and change. Also gingers."

Quinn drops her head in a sigh. "I should have told her about all this the second I agreed to a DNA test. She's going to feel completely blindsided."

"You just wanted to make sure it was true before bringing it up." Brittany says, offering her a reassuring smile.

"I know that but I've been lying to her." Quinn pushes her free hand through her hair stressfully. "What was I thinking?"

"In your defense she hasn't been entirely truthful with you either. She still hasn't told us what's been going on with her."

"That's no excuse." Quinn shakes her head. "Just because she doesn't tell me something doesn't mean I should just go and be the same. This is a big deal."

"Maybe not," Brittany concedes. "But look, now that you believe me, we can sit her down and tell her the whole story. Everything about your sister, the storybook, the curse—"

"Uh, I never said I believed in the storybook." Quinn gently interjects. "Or the curse."

Brittany stares at her, pausing. "Wait, so you didn't tell Anna?"

"Of course not, Brittany. Nothing in that book is real. The curse is not real. And her name's not _Anna_."

Although she would admit the name was significantly more befitting than the actual name on her sister's file: Frannie Fabray.

Brittany raises her brow. "Seriously?" She scoffs incredulously as she points behind her. "You've got living, breathing proof right in that room that it's all true and you—"

"Just because she's my sister does not mean we are fairy tale characters come to life." Quinn sighs in exasperation. "It's just a—"

"If you say it's just a _coincidence_ so help me!"

Both girls slightly jump when the door suddenly opens and the nurse comes out. They avert their gazes apologetically when the woman gives them reproachful looks for raising their voices. "Sorry."

They wait until she's disappeared around the corner before rounding on each other again.

"_Brittany_."

She tries giving Brittany her Fabray stare but the blonde isn't having it.

"_Quinn_."

Quinn turns her back on her in a huff, head shaking. "I'm not doing this again."

"You know I'm right, Quinn."

Quinn walks over to the door to her sister's room. Her hand barely grazes the handle when a shriek suddenly comes from inside.

"MY NAME'S _WHAT?_"

Her heart stalling, Quinn all but rips open the door and rushes inside, Brittany right on her heels.

She stops short, however, when she sees that her sister was in no immediate danger - she'd only just gotten a hold of the file Quinn had left behind.

"Frannie. Fabray." Her sister reads a loud in slow, horror-filled voice. Her eyes snap to Quinn's equally stunned ones. "FRANNIE?" she splutters, her voice climbing several octaves. "Are you kidding me? Oh god, our parent's hated me, didn't they? They did. Ugh." Her sister slumps back against her pillows in utter dismay. "I'm so gonna get teased about this. People are just gonna call me Fannie and Fattie..." She rolls herself over and pushes her face into one of her pillows, her words trailing off into unintelligible mumbles.

Before Quinn can even attempt to calm her down, she pops up like a jack-in-the-box. "You know what?" Her sister tosses the file aside, shaking her head, flat out refusing to along with it, "Nope. Nu-uh. Forget this. Veto. Veto. Veto. I want a new name."

"How about _Anna_." Brittany suggests and Quinn shoots her such a withering look over her shoulder, it should have incinerated her.

"Yes!" Her sister perks up delightedly and points at Brittany. "I want that name instead!" Her gaze snaps back to Quinn expectantly. "Can I have it, please?"

"Are you sure?" Quinn stammers, her heart pounding._ So much energy_, she thinks. "I mean I don't have to call you Frannie." She wasn't going to force her to keep a name she hated of course. "But you don't have to take the first name suggested to you either. You can take time to think about it."

"No need." Her sister waves off happily. "_Anna_ feels right."

"Can't imagine why." Brittany hums knowingly, brushing past Quinn. She turns around and plops herself down on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah, it's short, sweet and simple." Anna nods. "You know, like me." She cuts off with a sudden gasp, her attention having drifted elsewhere. "_Is that what I think it is?_"

Quinn blinks, then follows her gaze, realizing belatedly she had a chocolate bar still in her hand.

"I. Love. Chocolate!"

"Well it's a good thing I bought you one too." Brittany chuckles, directing Anna's attention back before pulling one out of her bag.

Anna stares at her like she's a godsend. "Who are you, you beautiful blonde chocolate angel?"

"Brittany." Brittany introduces with a beaming smile. "Quinn's best friend."

Anna turns to Quinn, nodding her approval. "You have great taste in chocolate." She shakes her head, quickly correcting, "I mean _friends_!"

"Um," Quinn side-eyes her in concern as she walks closer to the pair. "I really don't think you should have chocolate while you're still recuperating..."

"It's not like a little chocolate is going to put me back in that coma." Anna snorts, waving it off. "And even if it does it'll be well worth it. Hey!"

Anna's mouth drops open in shock when Quinn takes the half unwrapped chocolate bar out of her hand anyways. "You can have it when you're out of the hospital."

"But, but, what if chocolate's the key to my recovery!" Anna flails her hands, willing her to give it back. "Oh c'mon, Elsa!"

Quinn's pretty sure the color just drained from her face.

"What, what did you call me?"

"Uh, sorry." Anna smiles in embarrassment. She shakes her head, nose scrunching up. "I don't know where that came from. You're not Elsa, you're Quinn. Weird." When she looks back at Quinn, her expression falters. "You, you okay?"

Quinn ignores Brittany's increasingly smug smile as she maintains, "Fine. Just fine."

Meanwhile on the inside she's anything but.

—

To say the day had been an emotional roller coaster would be saying the least.

Quinn's still trying to digest it all.

She felt like she was in one of her dreams, everything was so surreal. This time yesterday she'd known there was the possibility of Jane Doe turning out to be her sister, but she never could have imagined it to be true.

As glad as she was though, she couldn't truly bask in the warmth it brought her, if only because she still had a loose end to tie up with Santana. Now, with everything's that happened, she couldn't continue keeping her in the dark.

Quinn spends the walk home thinking over what she's going to say. Or rather, how she's going to say it. Either way she puts it, she knows, Santana was going to flip.

Quinn glances down at her phone again. She had a missed call from Santana and as tempted as she was to just call her back, she knew this was a conversation that needed to be done in person.

A sentiment Santana also shared, Quinn realizes shortly thereafter when she arrives at her apartment to find the Latina sitting out on the front stoop, smoking one of her cigars and bouncing her knee. For a fleeting moment Santana's presence has Quinn wondering if Brittany had beaten her to it and already told Santana everything. Or at the very least given her a head's up that she wanted to talk.

Quinn swallows thickly. She had hoped she would get in a little more mental prep time before getting into this.

Santana idly lifts her gaze in her direction. She straightens up when she sees Quinn and pushes off the ground. "Hey." she coughs, immediately waving away the cloud of smoke that surrounded her.

"Hi."

She watches Santana stamp out the remains of her cigar.

"So," Santana clears her throat as Quinn tentatively moves closer. "We need to talk."

She nods in agreement, doing her best to ignore the pang of panic those words bring. "Yeah, we do."

She makes a move toward the building entrance, figuring they'd just take things to her apartment but Santana gently stops her. "Um, can we not go inside?"

Quinn looks back at her and simply nods.

It's a strange request, she thinks, but she follows Santana to the sidewalk anyways.

Santana seemed to have a set destination in mind and Quinn isn't surprised when it turns out to be the park. It was empty now that the sun had gone down and the temperature had dropped.

Quinn steps onto the playground with her, silently, the two of them secretly waiting on the other to start the conversation.

When Santana turns around to face her, Quinn thinks she's finally going to speak up, but instead, Santana just closes the gap between them. Her good hand reaches up and slips around Quinn's neck, holding her close while she pressing their lips together. It's unexpected for the moment, needless to say, but Quinn kisses back anyways, her own hand moving to cup Santana's cheek. It feels like ages since they've kissed each other like this.

Against Santana's lips, Quinn feels the overwhelming emotion of today just melt away, leaving her with a blissfully content feeling. She pushes into Santana's kiss more insistently, lips parting for a deeper exchange. As much as she hated Santana's nasty cigar habit, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't a little bit addicted to the smoky flavor it left behind in her mouth.

Santana pulls away just as things start to get a little more intense. "Okay, okay." she says seriously, shaking her head and licking her lips. "Now that I got that out of my system. We really need talk." Santana fixes her with a expectant stare forcing Quinn snap out of her dazed state. "What's going on with you and Brittany?"

"What's going on with you, Santana?" She doesn't know why she counters with that, but she regrets it all the same. She knows Santana hates her questions being answered with another question and really, annoying her right off the bat wasn't the route she wanted to go down.

Especially not after that amazing kiss.

Santana ignores her reply, continuing, "You two have been acting weird."

"So have you." Quinn can't help but point out. When Santana doesn't say anything to that, she sighs and forces the words out before she can lose her nerve, "I have a sister."

"_Excuse me?_"

Quinn swallows and nods, clarifying, "The girl from the hospital, the one you caught me staring at? Well, as it turns out, she's my sister. I just got the DNA results today and they're a match."

Santana stares at her wordlessly, head shaking like she couldn't believe her ears.

"What the hell? Why am I just hearing about this now?"

"Because I wanted to know for sure."

"So, what?" Santana scoffs. "Even if it turned out to be a fluke, you weren't going to mention it?"

"I would have." Quinn insists, frowning. "I just needed time to wrap my head around it, process it it on my own before talking to you." she sighs, willing her to see her side of it. "This all happened so fast, Santana."

"But you could let Brittany in on it."

"To be fair, this was all Brittany's idea. She let me in on all this, not the other way around. She's the one who suggested I befriend Anna in the first place, then get the DNA test."

"Seriously?" Santana glares. "You named the Jane Doe _Anna?_"

Quinn scowls defensively. "I didn't name her, Santana. She's not a puppy. It just happened that her medical records were on file this whole time. Though how that just slipped past the hospital is beyond me. Anyway her legal name is Frannie Fabray but she wasn't too keen to keep that name. Not that I blame her. Brittany suggested _Anna_ and she just jumped on it."

"Wait, wait, hold up." Santana raises a hand up to her face. "The kid's _awake?_ For how long?"

"Not long, about a week." she admits. "But I only just met her today."

"And Brittany's met her." Santana clarifies.

"Yes."

"Quinn," She could tell Santana was trying to understand but obviously her mind was still too full of questions for that to happen. "You said the DNA test was Brittany's idea?"

Quinn nods.

"Why would she suggest that? How the hell did she get the idea that you two were sisters?"

Quinn hesitates. "It's...complicated." As soon as the reply leaves her mouth, Quinn cringes, knowing instantly that Santana would not be appeased with such a lame answer.

"Uncomplicate things then." Santana demands, her arms crossing. "If you two can handle it, I sure as hell can."

"She just...had a hunch." Quinn offers weakly. And, _god_ that was an even worse line than _It's complicated_.

"Had a hunch." Santana deadpans. "That bullshit is really what you want to go with?"

Quinn shakes her head, sighing. "It's Brittany. She just doesn't want you to know." _Yet_, her mind adds. "And I promised her I wouldn't say anything."

She feels bad putting the blame on Brittany but she said it herself she didn't want Santana to know and, even though Quinn didn't believe in her impossible fairy tale theory, she felt obligated to keep that trust.

"So?" Santana scoffs.

"So? Santana you act like making a promise to my best friend is unreasonable." Deep down she knows Santana had every right to be mad but still.

"Sorry but not sorry _I'm_ your girlfriend. That means I pull rank over Brittany. What the hell happened to honesty and no secrets?"

Quinn forces herself to hold back her snap reply. Santana was so not one to talk about that but one issue at a time here. "Look Brittany just has really crazy theory and she knows you'll just make fun of it if she told you."

"If it's so crazy then why won't you just tell me?" When Quinn hesitates, Santana dips her head for a second and exhales, trying valiantly to keep calm. "Look, if you tell me, I won't let Brittany know. It will be between us."

"I gave her my word." Quinn sighs apologetically. "Besides I really feel it's her place to tell you. Not mine." She wouldn't even know how to begin that conversation.

_Hey Santana, Brittany thinks you're a werewolf._

Yeah, that would go over so well.

Santana's eyes narrow disbelievingly. "There's more to it than that."

Quinn can't help but shift uncomfortably under her gaze.

"_You're scared._" Santana realizes, with a start.

"Scared?" Quinn scoffs, but it's not at all convincing, not to her ears by a long shot. "Of what?"

Santana raises her shoulders. "You tell me. Maybe this crazy theory of hers isn't so crazy, maybe that's it?"

"Santana..."

She doesn't even know what to say to that.

Santana rolls her eyes in exasperation. "Fine." She shakes her head and waves her hands." Whatever. You know what, I don't even care. But what are you planning on doing with Lana?"

"_Anna_." Quinn quietly corrects. "And well, she's still recuperating at the hospital but once she's discharged she'll be living with me."

Santana's taken aback. "You don't even know this girl and you're asking her to move in with you?"

Quinn knows how it sounds but, "She's my sister, Santana."

"A sister you can't even remember having!" Santana exclaims, staring at her like she's completely lost her mind. "Quinn, for all you know the doctors are screwing with you because they need someone to unload her on! You're the first person to take any interest in her, they probably typed up some bullshit files and DNA results to make it so she's your problem now. Do you not hear how fucking sketchy this sounds?"

Quinn exhales shakily. "What am I supposed to do? I don't take her in, she gets thrown into the system and put god knows where!"

Santana shoots her a wide-eyed _You're not listening_ look. "You don't know her, Quinn! She's _not_ your problem!"

"None of this makes sense, I know. But I know in my heart, in spite of these absurd circumstances, that this is true. Just looking into her eyes confirmed it."

It slightly surprises her just how true that statement was, now looking back.

"I'm just trying to look out for you." Santana drags out a sigh, willing herself to calm down. "Even you can admit this is something out of a bad soap opera. A random girl comes out of a coma and just like that you get told she's your sister?"

"What do you expect me to do? Say sorry but this situation is too bizarre for me to handle, you can just rot in foster care?"

"I just...I don't know." Santana shakes her head unknowingly. "Why didn't you come to me with any of this? Why was I left out of the loop? Is because the way I've been acting? Is that it? You think I couldn't handle it or something?"

"Of course not." Quinn deflates. "But while we're on the subject, are you ever going to talk to me about it? I know you just want me to sweep it under the rug, but I can't just keep acting like your recent behavior isn't worrying me."

Santana rolls her eyes.

"Quinn, I'm f—"

"Santana you say you're fine and that nothing's wrong, that you're just being moody, but all those outbursts last week and that panic attack—"

"It wasn't a panic attack." Santana scowls, tensing up defensively. "It was one too many shots of espresso in my coffee, that's all."

"If you were really fine you wouldn't have been so distant." Quinn disagrees. "All of a sudden it's like you can't be alone in the same room with me!"

"You're one to talk!" Santana scoffs. "You've been distant too, you know."

"And now you know why!"

"Is that it, really?" she questions skeptically.

Quinn stares at her, her brow creasing. "Of course it is. Why else would I have reason to avoid you?"

Santana raises her shoulders. "I don't know, you tell me. Are you seeing someone else?"

She slips that question in so fast, Quinn barely catches it.

"_Excuse me?_"

Did she really just ask that?

"Of course not, Santana. _That's the most ridiculous_—" Quinn cuts off with a shake of her head, her mind suddenly reeling. "I can't believe you just asked me that."

"What? It's a perfectly reasonable question."

"If there's reasonable doubt backing it up!" Quinn says with an incredulous stare. "Who exactly do you think I'm cheating on you with?"

"That ex-thing of yours Biff!"

Quinn has to take a step back and touch her hands to her head because, _what?_

"Biff, are you kidding me?"

Where on earth was that even coming from?

"I've had him in my head for the past week, taunting me, driving me fucking up the wall." Santana shouts, any attempt at keeping calm forgotten. "And the only reason that makes any damn sense why a guy I don't even know, but _you_ do, is up in my head is because my brain's trying to tell me something's going on there."

"So _that's_ what you thought I was hiding? You think I've found someone else and I've been cheating on you?"

"Look, I don't really think you're cheating," Santana backtracks. She throws her head back and groans to herself, "I just, I don't know what to think anymore!"

Quinn shakes her head, her eyes burning with anger and hurt. Santana wouldn't have ever brought it up if she didn't think there was a possibility.

"God, what is it with you?" she snaps, unable to contain her indignation. "Do I radiate some kind of aura of infidelity? Do I have _possible cheater_ written across my forehead in ink that only you can read? Why can't you see that you're who I want, that you're who makes me happy? What do I have to do to prove that? Please, enlighten me because clearly my words aren't enough for you anymore!"

To her immediate confusion, Santana's choice of response is to stare at her like she'd just grown a second head.

Quinn pulls back, her anger dissipating into self-consciousness. "What?"

"What the hell was that?" Santana demands, and just like that her tone sends Quinn's annoyance flaring right back up again.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean what do I mean?" Santana argues. "I'm not deaf, I know what I heard. You—" She points an accusing finger at her. "You just completely changed languages on me!"

Quinn shakes her head, taken aback. "What?_ I did not_."

"Did so! One second you're speaking in English, the next you're talking like that damn Swedish Chef from the Muppets!"

"I don't know Swedish. I've never even been to an Ikea!"

_"As Queen, Elsa was well versed in over a dozen languages."_

Quinn turns away sharply, pushing that line of text from the storybook out of her head.

"Well if you don't know Swedish or whatever yodelayheehoo language it is, how the hell were you able to chew me out like that, huh?"

Quinn's throat constricts. God it was like Brittany had gotten to everyone with her stupid fairy tale theory and was trying to mess with her head. "Santana if you're trying to be funny, cut it out."

"Who's being funny?" Santana snaps indignantly. "I know what I heard, Quinn."

Quinn shakes her head in flat out refusal, suddenly feeling like she was being closed in on. Like the universe was conspiring against her to make her believe in the impossible.

And god, it was working.

Looking at Santana now, all she can see is that _red hood_.

"I—I have to go."

She's barely even aware she was backing away from Santana.

"What? Wait, Quinn!"

Santana reaches for her but by then she's already taken off running.

Quinn pushes her legs as hard as they'll go. Santana keeps calling after her but all she can hear is,

"Elsa!"

"Elsa!"

"ELSA!"

* * *

**AN: Still so much more to come! As always thank you all for your patience and kind words, it truly means a lot.  
**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Here we go again!  
**

**This picks up right where we left off. Hopefully**** it's worth the wait. **

**Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Santana had known long before she arrived at Quinn's apartment that the answers she got out of the blonde might not be the ones she wanted to hear. Hell, she was fully prepared for that to be the case.

Or at least she _thought_ she was.

She'd imagined their little confrontation going a bunch of different ways but not like this. Not with Quinn running out on her after dropping the bombshell that was, _oh yeah, surprise! I have a_ _sister_.

Like, seriously?

She never would've guessed in a million years that a sister was what Quinn had been hiding from her.

Santana stands, her head still shaking in disbelief.

"A sister." No matter how many times she said the word out loud, or in her head, her brain just couldn't seem to accept it.

A fucking _sister_.

And that wasn't even all that Quinn was hiding apparently.

At that reminder, Santana clenches her jaw and swears her incredulity out loud. "What. The. Fuck?"

What else could Quinn possibly be keeping from her?

And why was it Brittany's place to tell her?

Incensed by the amount of unanswered questions she was still left with, Santana abruptly storms out of the playground Quinn had left her in. Her mind was a clusterfuck of jumbled emotions right now but she was done with being kept in the dark. She didn't care if her head exploded by the end of the night. She needed to know every little thing those two blondes have been keeping from her.

And she needed to know _now_.

She reaches the Pierce home in little to no time at all. She pounds on the door once, twice, then over and over repeatedly, her frustrated state triggering a desire to hit something good and hard.

When the door suddenly opens she drops her fist. Thank God it was Brittany and not her parents who answered because in all honesty Santana wasn't sure she could reign in her temper and be polite right now, even for a couple seconds.

"You had better fucking explain what the hell is is going on, Britt." she growls out, pushing past the unsuspecting blonde to get inside.

Brittany closes the door behind her and turns around, regarding her in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Santana's jaw tightens momentarily. "Brittany," she exhales, slowly, her tone on edge with warning. "So help me god if you don't tell me what secret you've been keeping with Quinn."

"Maybe if you wipe that murderous glare off your face."

"Brittany!" she snarls. "Quinn just fucking ran off on me after yelling at me in German or whatever language it is that neither one of us knew she could speak and before that I found out about some coma kid turning out to be her long lost sister — right now is not the time to fucking toy with me!"

Brittany raises her brow at this new information. "Quinn ran away and you didn't go after her?"

"If I had thought she wanted me to go after her I would have." Santana huffs, annoyed that for one, Brittany was completely unfazed by her hostility, and two that of all things, Quinn's running away was the first part Brittany chose to address. "But I wasn't really getting that vibe so yeah, here I fucking am."

"Why was she yelling at you?"

"I kinda insinuated that I thought she was cheating on me." Santana answers unthinkingly before catching herself and scowling. She waves away her hands in frustration.

_She_ was the one supposed to be doing the interrogating here, god damnit!

Brittany's mouth drops open. "Santana!"

Santana bristles at the blonde's accusatory stare. "Well if you guys would've just fucking let me in instead of shutting me out, I never would've jumped to any conclusions!" she snaps defensively.

Brittany throws her head back for a second, groaning. "Ugh, Santana." Her head drops so she can meet Santana's gaze. "Who the hell do you even think she's been cheating on you with?"

Santana crosses her arms, all but growling out the name. "Biff McIntosh."

"_Are you serious?_"

Santana shifts uncomfortably at Brittany's incredulous tone. Her raised eyebrows were even farther up her forehead than before.

"Santana that's ridiculous!"

"He's in my head!" she returns loudly, enough to prompt Brittany to jump up and grab her arm. "I don't even know the guy," she continues, trying for quieter tone while Brittany drags her upstairs to the privacy of her bedroom. "Yet for some fucking reason every time I close my eyes, him and his stupid sideburns are there and I just wanna rip his face off and wear it."

"Wait a second." Brittany stops after locking her door closed behind her. "What does he look like again? Exactly?"

"He's got stupid brownish reddish hair, stupid sideburns and stupid blue eyes." Santana retorts. She turns around, suddenly confused. "Wait, what do you care what he looks like?"

Her narrowed eyes follow Brittany as she moves around her bed and pulls out some old book from under her pillow. "Don't tell me you've been hooking up with a guy who fucking matches that description." she scoffs. "Because Brittany, so help me—"

"Of course not." Brittany lifts her head enough to roll her eyes at her. "I just..." Her words trail off as her gaze shifts back to the book in her lap.

Santana watches her flip through the pages and sniffs in disdain. The pages smelled funny, even from here. "What is that anyways?"

In typical Brittany fashion she ignores her and throws a question of her own at Santana instead. "Does he look like this?" Brittany holds up the book and points to an illustration of a guy who held a passing resemblance Biff.

Santana takes a step back, mildly weirded out that the illustration had him in that disney prince get up she always saw him wearing in her dreams. "Yeah, basically." she says, shrugging off that previous thought.

Brittany sets the book back down in her lap, her head shaking. "He's bad news. Quinn needs to stay away from him."

Santana snorts. "That's what I've been trying to tell her." Uncrossing her arms, she walks over to Brittany and steals the open book out of her lap. "What book is this?"

She skims over the page before her gaze glances back up expectantly. She frowns when she finds Brittany pursing her lips rather hard — something she did whenever she was uncertain or really anxious about something.

"That," Brittany starts apprehensively, after taking what definitely had been a fortifying breath. "Is what I've been keeping from you. What I told Quinn not to tell you about."

Santana raises her brow. "A book."

"It's not just any book." Brittany defends quickly when Santana flips the book closed with one hand to check out the front.

"All this time," She looks at cover, _Once Upon A Time_, for a prolonged moment, attempting to collect herself before returning her attention to Brittany. It takes all her willpower not to snap again. "Here I am going out of my mind thinking it must be something really fucking bad if I got Brittany avoiding me and asking Quinn to keep things from me and you're telling me this whole ordeal is over a stupid _book?_"

"Santana, wait." Brittany stands up and holds her hands up placatingly. "Before you write this off, just do me a favor and read it."

Santana furrows her brow. "What, why?"

"It's just really important that you do."

Santana shakes her head. "Brittany, this isn't story time. I don't want to read. I want _answers_. Tell me what does this book has to do with anything."

"Read it first and then I'll tell you. I'll explain everything."

"_Brittany_—"

"Those are my terms." the blonde cuts off firmly.

"Well I don't agree to those fucking terms." Santana loudly scoffs, pushing the book back into her hands. "Now Brittany tell me what the hell is going on!"

"If I tell you now you're not going to take anything I say seriously." Brittany rebuffs. "And I know you're mad at me for not telling you about Quinn's sister, but please don't hold that against me right now. I just really need you to read this book, please. Once you've read it for yourself and you've had time to process things, I swear we'll talk."

Santana opens her mouth to protest but Brittany just shoves the book toward her, unyielding. "Santana, take it or leave it."

Santana clenches her jaw together and huffs. Sometimes she really resented the hold Brittany had on her. She just couldn't ever say no to her.

Shaking her head, she reluctantly snatches the book from the blonde's outstretched hands.

"You have got some nerve Britt."

"You'll thank me later!" Brittany merely replies as Santana starts to walk away.

Santana just slams the door shut behind her, with nothing left to say.

For now.

—

When Santana returns home she's mindful not to do any door slamming or excessively loud swearing. As much as she felt entitled to it, she wasn't about to risk dealing with her abuela.

In her bedroom she kicks away the clothes strewn across the floor in her path, muttering under her breath. The universe just wouldn't stop baiting her. Once she makes it to her bed, she pulls the leather bound book out from under her arm and takes another look at the cover.

_Once Upon A Time._

Santana shakes her head to herself. Here she is wanting answers and Brittany just gives her a bunch of fairy tales to read.

For once she wasn't seeing the Brittany logic.

"Whatever." She tosses the book onto her bed then plops down onto her stomach after it, sighing heavily. She was in no mood to sit and read but hey, if flipping through a damn picture book would get Brittany to stop fucking around and be straight with her, she might as well just do it now and get it over with.

So she reads through the stories. (Well most of them anyways - she skips over the tale of Pinocchio and his super phallic nose cause, _No, just_ _no_).

The book was definitely not something she'd ever pick as her own personal reading material but it was alright, she guessed, for a bunch of kid stories. Though she was failing to see why Brittany was so insistent that she read this book.

When she finally gets to the end of the book, she's still at a loss so she calls up Brittany to find out why exactly the blonde had her waste her time on it. She had better have a good explanation for it, that's all she had to say.

_"Did you finish reading the storybook?"_

"Yeah, I did." she says, snorting a little at Brittany's eager tone. You'd think she'd been waiting by the phone this whole time.

(Hell, she probably was).

_"And? What did you think?"_

"I think it's a bunch of children's stories." Santana replies, idly flipping back through the pages. "Still doesn't explain why you felt you had to keep this from me, or make me read it. It's just a book."

_"What about Red Riding Hood?"_

"What about it?" Her brow furrows. "Aside from the fact that they got that story all kinds of wrong? I mean, come on, the granny didn't even get eaten like she was supposed to. I was looking forward to that part, especially since the broad reminded me of my own abuela." And after the day she's had she could've done with some chuckles.

_"So you did notice that some things were familiar?"_

"It's a book of fairy tales, of course they're familiar." she frowns. "We all grew up reading these stories, right?"

_"That's not what I meant."_ she hears Brittany sigh.

Santana resists the urge to roll her eyes. "Then enlighten me, B, cause I haven't got a clue what you're trying to get at. Unless this is your way of telling me you wanna sing an _Into The Woods_ song for glee club this week."

_"No, Santana, you're not going..."_ Brittany lets her words trail off with another heavy sigh.

"Not going to what?" she wonders, straightening up.

_"Believe_ _me_._ You're not going to believe me."_

Santana feels her frown deepen. "You're my best friend, Britt. Give me a little credit."

_"Fine. You know how we've all been having weird dreams for like, months now?"_

"Yeah," Santana nods warily, desperately hoping this wasn't about to turn into another conversation about dreams. "And?"

Silence.

For a moment there she thinks Brittany had left her hanging, but then she finally hears the blonde take another breath. _"And,"_ Brittany hedges nervously. _"I think that book is what we've been dreaming about. It's our past life."_

Reasonably, Santana doesn't answer right away. "The storybook." she clarifies, processing. "You think that the storybook is about a past life we've had."

_"Yes."_

Santana shuts her eyes.

"Look Britt," she sighs, rubbing a hand over her face. "I'm really not in the mood for jokes. Just tell me the truth. I promise I won't make fun of you or do whatever it is you think I'll do."

_"I am telling you the truth."_ Brittany insists, with a twinge of exasperation to her voice. _"Think about it. It explains everything. All our weird quirks, why we can't remember our past here, why we're always having such strange dreams. You told me you dream of being in the forest a lot. That's because you were dreaming about your other life, the one you spent in the Enchanted Forest. That storybook tells about everything that happened us. What _really_ happened."_

Santana shakes her head to herself, unsure of where to even start with that. "This whole town is surrounded by forest, Britt. It's not that strange of a thing to dream. As for the—"

_"Santana, can you honestly say that you didn't at all relate to Red Riding Hood?"_

Santana laughs in surprise. "Is that who you think I am?"

_"Come on Santana. Your favorite color is red, you live alone with your grandma, your favorite animal is the wolf—"_

Realizing this whole thing wasn't just Brittany being cute and quirky, that she was being dead serious, Santana quickly moves herself around so that she was sitting on the edge of her bed. "None of those things add up to us being damn cartoon characters, B!"

_"So it's just a coincidence that Red calls Elsa 'Snowflake' —the same name you call Quinn?"_

"It's not exactly the most unique nickname I'll admit." Her gaze drops back down to the storybook. Brittany probably showed her this book before and she picked up a few details subconsciously. It would explain why she sometimes dreamt of Quinn in a snow queen dress.

_"Santana you're allergic to silver for crying out loud! Who the hell has an allergy to silver?_"_  
_

"Jesus, Britt." she swears, slapping the storybook closed. "This is a book. A fictional book. As in not real. Not based in reality. Fake. It's not a fucking biography."

_"See this is why I didn't want to tell you now! __I knew you wouldn't listen."_

Santana pushes away from her bed. "Now or later doesn't matter!" she exclaims, then wincing as soon as the words left her mouth, realizing she'd raised her voice a little too loudly. She casts a self-conscious glance to her door. Then hisses into her phone, "You think we're fairy tale characters!"

_"You want to know how I figured out Jane Doe was Quinn's sister? That book. And guess what? It turned out to be true!"_

"That doesn't mean anything!"

_"It means everything!"_ Brittany argues back. _"It's proof that everything I'm saying is the truth! We all grew up in the Enchanted Forest but we were swept up in a curse that put us here."_

Santana throws her head back. She was starting to get pissed. "I. Am. Not. A. Fucking. Werewolf. Not now, not in a past life, not ever. This isn't some supernatural teen drama."

_"Says the girl whose wolf side is becoming more and more obvious by the day!"_

That sets her off. "I'm temperamental, B! That's it!"

Brittany scoffs. _"Santana, please."_

Santana drops her gaze and exhales slowly, silently counting herself up to ten. That's what people were supposed to do to keep their cool, right?

"Quinn knows about all this?" she asks roughly instead.

_"Yeah."_

"And she believes you?" Santana questions doubtfully. "She believes in all this fairy tale cra_—stuff_?"

Santana nods at the silence she receives, partly relieved. "Didn't think so."

_"S__he knows I'm_ _right_." Brittany says, definitely sending an indignant frown through the phone. "_I mean I did bring her to living proof in the form of a little sister."_

"The kid's a ginger. No way is Quinn related to a ginger."

Brittany ignores her. _"I know I'm getting through to her, trust me."_

Santana just sighs, something which Brittany definitely picked up on.

_"I'm not crazy."_

"I didn't say that you were."

_"Yeah, well your tone says otherwise."_

Santana can't help but return the blonde's bitter scoff. "Yeah, well you're not exactly making things easy."

_"I'm not saying all this to annoy you, Santana. You wanted to know what's been going on with me and Quinn, well I'm telling you."_

"And I get that." Santana responds wearily. "But put yourself in my shoes, Britt. Maybe then you'd realize how insane this all sounds. I know you're a believer in all things good and fantastical and that's great but Quinn doesn't have ice powers, I can't fucking shape shift, and you...you...who do you think you are?"

_"Rapunzel."_

Santana nods and rolls her eyes to herself. "Right. Of course. Rapunzel. Well that explains your weird fixation with chameleons and why you you can spend hours in a single room without going stir-crazy."

_"Santana, I really don't need the sarcasm."_

"No, you need me to believe you." she laments quietly. "Trouble is, I don't."

_"Not yet. But you will."_

"Don't hound me on this, Britt." she warns, her muscles tensing back up. "I mean it."

_"Fine. I won't. But this isn't going away."_

Santana looks back to her bed. "It is if I decide to bury this storybook out somewhere you can't find."

_"Impossible. Everyone knows Hufflepuffs are particularly good finders."_

Santana shakes her head, cracking a smile in spite of herself. "It's getting late. Get some rest, B." Then, under her breath, adds, "_A lot of rest."_

_"What was that?"_

"Nothing, B."

_"Wait, Santana, before you go. You're gonna be working with Rachel on an interview with Mayor Corcoran, right?"_

Santana nods. "Yeah, and?"

_"Just be careful around the mayor."_ Brittany says quietly. _"She's not a good person."_

Santana furrows her brow, slightly caught off-guard. "Aren't you the one always telling me not to judge someone I don't even know before I get to know them?"

_"Usually, but in this case..."_ Brittany tapers off. _"Look, just don't mention any of this to her or anyone who knows her. She can't find out that anyone knows about the curse."_

"Why, who is she?" Santana asks, in spite of her better judgment.

_"The Evil Queen. The one who put us all here in the first place."_

Santana's gaze lifts to the ceiling.

_God._

"Goodnight, Brittany."

_"Night, Santana."_

After ending the call, her gaze unwittingly falls back to the storybook. Sighing, she pulls it closer and sits on the edge of the bed. She deliberates for a second before flipping flips through a couple pages and stopping at an illustration of Red Riding Hood.

After a lingering moment she stands and goes over to her closet. She stops in front of the floor length mirror attached to the back of the door. There, she pulls off her top and turns around, to get a better look at the scar on her shoulder. A scar that Red Riding Hood happened to have in the same place.

Santana turns away with another shake of her head.

"It's just a coincidence." she murmurs.

Just a coincidence.

—

For Quinn, grocery shopping isn't normally a stressful activity but today is the exception. Something to do with the fact that this is the first time she has to shop for someone other than herself.

Despite recently getting out of a coma, Anna was doing remarkably well and was looking to be released from the hospital much sooner than anyone could have anticipated. Which was great news, obviously, but at the same time also terrifying news. Quinn has only ever had experience taking care of a dog. And sure she had Santana and Brittany who she mothered (inadvertently sometimes) but that was different, they weren't dependent on her. Or fresh out of a years long coma like Anna, with no memory of anything other than the fact that they loved chocolate.

Speaking of, chocolate had been the only thing Anna requested. As for everything else, "I'll eat whatever the store has!" she'd said. An entirely unhelpful response but Quinn knows it wasn't Anna's fault she didn't know what foods she did or didn't like. There wasn't exactly much of a food selection back at the hospital.

Unlike here, where the breakfast aisle had more options for cereal than this town had people.

(For such a small market, it was surprisingly well stocked).

God.

Just looking at all the choices laid out in front of her made her want to run home, crawl under the covers and never come out until all her adult responsibilities magically disappeared on their own.

Was she overreacting? Probably. But it's moments like this where her new reality of being a legal guardian hits her hard. And if she couldn't even manage the simple task of choosing groceries for Anna, how on earth was she supposed to manage anything else?

Quinn swallows thickly, her anxiety starting to make her feel nauseous. "Has this aisle always been so extensive?"

She's pretty sure there weren't nearly as many types of Raisin Bran the last time she was here.

Brittany, whom she'd asked to tag along just in case she got overwhelmed, chuckles. "You really don't pay attention to anything else when Santana's around, do you?"

Quinn just blushes.

More often than not Santana joined her for grocery shopping and on such occasions it was such a blissfully easy process. There was no indecisiveness. She would always have her list already written out so she knew exactly what was needed. Then she'd always divide the list in half so she and Santana could split up and wrap things up faster.

(They liked to get out of there as soon as they could so they could get back to more important activities, like making out).

Obviously today things were different. She had no list to go off of and no Santana to keep her mind preoccupied.

She hasn't talked to Santana since the night she ran out on her, though not for lack of trying. She'd called but Santana clearly didn't want to talk. Quinn knew Santana had a right to be upset with her, but so did she. They had both kept things from each other, they were both _still_ keeping things from each other, but Quinn was willing to just forgive and forget the whole thing if only to save themselves from yet another round of not speaking.

Santana, as it seemed, didn't share her concerns.

"Speaking of Santana, I told her about the storybook." says Brittany, effectively snapping her out of her thoughts.

Quinn blinks for a second. "You what?"

Brittany nods solemnly. She puts back the box of Coco Crisps she'd been debating and instead puts the box of Coco Puffs in the cart.

Quinn furrows her brow. "I thought you were going to wait to do that."

"I was. But she ambushed me and I knew she wasn't going to settle for anything but the truth. It happened right after you ran out on her, the other night? What happened there? I mean, I kinda know what happened..." Brittany trails off for her to fill in.

"I told her about Anna." Quinn sighs. "She couldn't believe it, not that I blame her. The whole situation is unusual. Anyways, after I told her, she mentioned Biff and let slip that she'd thought I was cheating on him and I don't get what's her fixation with him— it's not like I'm always spending time with him or anything but that's what she thought I was hiding and that pissed me off—"

"Santana says you yelled at her in German?" Brittany interrupts curiously.

_Norwegian_, a voice in the back of her mind corrects.

Quinn shakes her head, her gaze lowering. "That might've happened." she says quietly, reluctant to admit it even happened. She didn't need Brittany thinking it was proof of her theory being right.

Because it wasn't.

Sure she might've thought for a few seconds there that Brittany was onto something, but her mind had been all over the place that night. She'd gotten overwhelmed and wasn't able to think straight.

That's all.

"Hey." Brittany grabs a box off another shelf and points to it. It's Pop-tarts. "Take note, Q. All good teen-approved foods start with _P_. For example, Pop-tarts, Pizza, Pringles, Pineapple."

Quinn tilts her head at that last one. "Pineapple?"

"It's not junk food, I know, but it's delicious. Also," Brittany walks a little further down the aisle, then grabs, "Peanut butter! You can never go wrong with peanut butter. Anna's not allergic, right?"

"No, but I have a feeling she'll soon be diabetic if I buy all of this food." Quinn says, her gaze drifting down to her cart and realizing just how much junk food Brittany managed to sneak in.

Shaking her head, Quinn begins taking things out. She really didn't want to kill her sister within the first week of having her. Unlike a goldfish, she wouldn't be able to just flush her down the toilet.

"So how did Santana take your theory about us being...well...you know." she questions hesitantly, after realizing Brittany had side-tracked her.

"As well as you'd expect." Brittany shrugs. "She just got mad and then blew me off. Denied it like you did."

"You're taking her reaction well." Quinn comments, mildly surprised.

"I'm optimistic but I'm not blindingly so." Brittany replies. "I know Santana, that's why I came to you first. She's going to take time. I mean, you both are, but her more so."

Brittany guides the cart out of the aisle and turns it around so they can continue their shopping. "As for Biff, you know why Santana hates him so much, don't you?"

Quinn shakes her head. "No." She can honestly say she doesn't.

Brittany rolls her eyes. "Biff is Hans." she explains, lowering her voice to a whisper. "You know, the Southern Isles Prince? He tried to take over Arendelle, nearly killed both you and Anna?"

"You're kidding."

Brittany shakes her head. "Yeah, so keep far away from him. He might still be a psychopath in this world."

Quinn just follows her and nods, still processing this new information.

When it comes time to go to produce aisle though, she finds herself deciding to avoid it all together.

It's not because she believes in any of this insanity. No, of course not.

She just doesn't happen to need any fruit. Or vegetables.

—

When school comes back around Santana finds herself ditching the morning glee meeting. She tells herself it's because she's not in the mood to pretend to care about whatever lecture Mr. Schue had in store but maybe, subconsciously, she was really just looking to avoid Brittany and Quinn first thing in the morning.

She knows the last time they talked, Brittany said she wouldn't bother her with talk of that dumb storybook again, but she had the nagging feeling Brittany wasn't going to keep to her word and Santana really didn't want to fucking deal with that right now if that was the case. As for Quinn, she was still upset with her for not telling her about her sister.

In general she was just too annoyed to bother with anything or anyone today. She wanted things back to the way they used to be. Back to when things were simple, there were no secrets, no crazy conspiracy theories.

Back to when things just made sense.

"Hi."

Santana jumps a little, recognizing Quinn's voice instantly. She steals a sideways glance and breathes softly in resignation. She knew she couldn't very well avoid her all day. "Hey."

"You weren't in glee." Quinn brings up, standing tentatively by Santana's locker. "Everything okay?"

"I wouldn't say so, no."

Out of the corner of her eye, Santana sees Quinn grimace but nod her head in understanding. "I'm sorry for running out on you the other night. I was..."

"Spooked." Santana fills in easily, finally looking back at her.

"You haven't been returning my calls. I take it you're still mad at me?"

"Yeah." More accurately she was a mix of annoyed, frustrated, hurt and a shit ton other emotions she couldn't name off the top of her head, but she was fine summing it up as mad. "You shut me out for no good reason. You keep me in the dark about your having a sister which, I don't know if you realize, is a big fucking deal. And then refuse to tell me what secret you've been keeping with Brittany even though it's just a stupid book Brittany has? Jesus, do you know what scenarios I'd cooked up in my head that were so much worse?"

"Yes, you made things quite clear when you accused me of cheating on you." Quinn says quietly, obviously still upset by it.

"I didn't mean that." she sighs in frustration, hating being the cause of that disheartened look in her eyes.

"Yeah, you did." Quinn calmly refutes. "Otherwise you never would have mentioned it."

"Well, what was I supposed to think?" Santana huffs, unable to help but get defensive. "You were being so goddamn weird around me."

"You've been acting just as weird around me but I never once thought it was because you were sneaking around on me." Quinn says, her voice gentle but pointed.

Santana exhales deeply. "Look, my brain's fucked up, I'm sorry," She raises her shoulders apologetically. "What else do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me what's been going on with you."

Santana rolls her eyes again, this time accompanying it with an exaggerated sigh. "_Nothing_ is going on with me."

Quinn shakes her head, staring at her incredulously. "Why can't you just tell me? What's the big deal?"

"It's nothing." she maintains, her voice getting that defensive edge again. "Can you just drop it?"

"I told you what's been going on with me." Quinn frowns, knowing better than to push her, but not quite backing down.

"_After_ I confronted you." Santana points out with a harsh scoff.

"It's not like I planned on keeping it from you forever, or at all." Quinn protests, now starting to get angry. "I just needed a little time to process things on my own first."

"Okay. Fine. Whatever." Santana turns away. This conversation was pointless, it's not like it would change anything. What's done was done.

"Look," Quinn deflates as the warning bell rings overhead. "I really don't want to fight about this. Can we just, _agree_ to be more upfront with each other from here on out and move on?"

"Fine with me."

Secretly, Santana was glad Quinn made the suggestion. If they kept this up, she wasn't sure she could keep herself from saying anything stupid and making things worse.

"So you're not going to hold this against me?" Quinn checks.

Santana slams her locker shut, slightly irked by the question. "God, Quinn. I'm not that bitter, jeez."

She shakes her head and starts to walk away, but doesn't get more than a couple steps because Quinn wasn't walking with her. She stops and turns around, finding Quinn still standing by her locker. Santana exhales deeply, her irritation defusing instantly. That remark had come out harsher sounding than she'd intended. She inclines her head. "C'mon, snowflake." she implores gently. "I don't need you making me late, I've got enough detentions as it is."

Quinn picks up her pace to join her.

If they weren't in school, with people around, Santana would kiss her head or give her some kind of other sign of reassurance. She almost takes Quinn's hand to give it a squeeze but she knows if she did, she wouldn't be able to let go of her hand.

They walk in silence until they're a little more than halfway to class.

"So Brittany told you about the storybook?" Quinn brings up, somewhat unsurely.

"Yeah."

"Pretty far-fetched, huh?"

That would be putting it mildly, Santana thinks. "Just when I think I've heard all the crazy that could possibly come out of that girl's mouth she goes and tops herself." Santana shakes her head, then looks to Quinn. "So how do you think we should handle it?"

"What do you mean?"

"She's legit convinced we're these characters." Santana lightly scoffs, staring at her with a furrowed brow.

"Oh right." Quinn raises her shoulders dismissively. "I wouldn't worry about it too much. You know Brittany, one day she's convinced her cats are secretly doing drugs, the next it's something entirely different. It'll blow over. Soon something else will grab her attention and she'll forget all about this."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Santana nods. On the inside she's relieved that Quinn was just going along with things for Brittany's sake. As she'd figured but a small part of her had worried that Quinn might...

Santana shakes her head.

Not that it matters.

Quinn's too logical a person to actually take her seriously, regardless of whatever coincidences Brittany had to argue with.

"It's probably just boredom that's got her." Quinn goes on to assure. "And you know Britt, she likes to create her own fun."

They both slow to a stop when they reach the hallway intersection that will force them to part ways.

Before Santana can get out some kind of parting, Quinn feels the need to say, "Before you go, you should know I'm not going to be in school for awhile."

Santana turns around, her brow knitting together in confusion. "What, why?"

"Anna's getting discharged from the hospital sooner than expected and she's going to need someone to look after her."

Santana scoffs incredulously. "Quinn, she's a teenager not a baby. Give her access to a tv and a refrigerator and she'll be good to go. She doesn't need you to miss school for her."

"She's been in a coma for years, Santana. I can't just leave her on her own." Quinn disagrees. "And I want to give her some time to adjust to life before I think about putting her in school. Don't worry I've already spoken with my teachers and they've all agreed to work something out with me."

Santana didn't doubt they would, what with Quinn being one of the top students and all, but she still didn't like the idea of Quinn not being in school. Away from her.

"Santana." Quinn steps closer to her, apparently sensing her objections. "We'll still see each other. Plenty." she promises, gently touching her arm. "This won't change things."

Santana shies away from her touch, mindful of their surroundings. "Things are already changing, snowflake." she murmurs.

As much as she hated it.

—

Quinn was a bundle of nerves all the way to the hospital.

Today was the day. In a short while she would be taking her sister home with her for the first time. Anna was wonderful and while they were getting along just fine, the responsibility of it all still loomed over Quinn's head like a rain cloud making it impossible to truly be at ease. Like with everything sometimes she just got too inside her own head and only seemed able to make mountains out of molehills.

She just _really_ didn't want to fuck her sister up for the rest of her life.

Quinn could already picture a future Anna talking to a therapist and citing her inept older sister as the root of all her problems.

Quinn winces. She switches the hot chocolate in her hand from one to the other. The stress was getting to her. Or at the very least the heat was. Even with her gloves on it felt uncomfortably warm and god did it make her hands ache.

The door to Anna's room is slightly ajar when she arrives so she tentatively pushes it open the rest of the way.

"Anna?"

Quinn steps inside only to stop short in the doorway. Anna was standing by her bed, shirt raised, her gaze fixated on her bare stomach. Or more specifically the scar across it.

Anna lifts her head upon her arrival.

"Was I ever in a gang? Cause I think I was stabbed."

Unwittingly, Quinn's mind flashes back to a time of chaos. _Fighting in the courtyard. Ash in the air. Her hands red with blood._

She blinks it away the imagery. Then shifts uncomfortably.

"Um, I don't think so."

She walks over to the side table and sets down the hot chocolate. It isn't until she releases a sigh that she realizes how relieved she was to be free of that heat.

She begins pulling off her gloves. "How are you feeling?"

"Spry." Anna grins, now swinging her arms and rocking back on her heels. "I feel like a million bucks. I can't wait to get outta here." Her eyes light up when Quinn turns around and she sees the drink she'd brought for her. "Ooh hot chocolate!" Anna skips over only to stop herself at the last second. "It is hot chocolate right?" she checks, her brow lifting ever so skeptically.

Quinn smiles faintly, recalling the time she'd brought in drinks for them both and in her eagerness Anna had taken a sip out of the first drink she saw before Quinn could specify which one was hers.

Needless to say Anna wasn't one for tea, or _disgusting_ _tree water_ as she now called it.

"Yes, Anna, it's hot chocolate."

"So how'd your last day go?" Anna pipes up after a careful sip of her drink. "Did you get everything taken care of?"

"Kind of." she sighs. In regards to school itself, yes, but as for things between her and Santana, not so much.

Quinn had hoped, maybe naively, that after her last hallway conversation with Santana things between them would get better. But instead things were just as much at a disconnect as they were before. Santana was still pulling away from her and being weird around her. Quinn wasn't sure if Santana thought she couldn't be her girlfriend _and_ Anna's sister at the same time or what, but every time the subject of Anna came up it became clear that _that_ was Santana's problem and Quinn didn't know what to do. More than once she's invited Santana to come with her hospital to meet Anna but Santana always had some kind of excuse lined up.

Was this what things were going to be like from now on? God she hoped not. Anna was a part in her life and if Santana couldn't deal with it now...

Quinn shakes her head, refusing to go down that rabbit hole. She could only worry about so many things at a time.

"Have I mentioned how sorry I am about this?"

Quinn refocuses her attention and is surprised to find Anna sporting an uncharacteristically guilty expression.

"What about?" her brow furrows.

"What about?" Anna echoes in disbelief. "Everything!" She throws out her hands involuntarily, then pulls back with a quick grimace, remembering the hot chocolate still in her grasp. "Your whole life just got upended on account of me." she continues, after setting down the hot chocolate, very carefully. "I mean I'm making you miss school. Your job—"

"The animal shelter will manage without me." Quinn says with an unconcerned shake of her head. "And as for school, I have all the work that I need to do. Most of it is just busy work anyways."

Explaining to her teachers that she suddenly found herself a guardian of a little sister she even didn't know she had and would need to miss school because of it had been _interesting_, and she's not quite sure some of them really believed her, but fortunately she had a good enough reputation for them to be willing to help her out.

"Still I think I can manage on my own while you're at school. Just leave me with some access to food— preferably the kind I don't have to cook because I'm not sure I know how to do that — and I'll be good."

Quinn shakes her head. "Out of the question. I'm not leaving you alone." Her eyes meet Anna's own and the corner of her mouth quirks up. "Sorry I know how much you were looking forward to getting into even more crazy shenanigans while I was gone." she smiles, her tone now alight with teasing.

Anna gasps. "Mischief? _Me?_ Big sister, you've mistaken me with someone else." She puts a hand to to her chest and raises her chin indignantly, head turning away. "I would _never_ partake in shenanigans."

Quinn chuckles. "Says the girl who nearly got her arm stuck in the vending machine trying to get a candy bar."

"Hey! A girl can only take so much hospital food. Besides, it's your fault for not sneaking me in more chocolate."

Quinn rolls her eyes smilingly. "Forgive me for not encouraging your chocolate only diet you seem so fond of."

Anna raises her shoulders unapologetically, stating, "Chocolate is made with milk and everyone knows milk is good for you. _Ergo_, chocolate is good for you."

"You can't live off of just chocolate."

"But how will we know, _really_, if I don't try?"

"If you try, you'll die of malnutrition," Quinn lightly scoffs. "And then I'll go to jail for negligence."

Anna raises her brow, slightly taken aback. "Man, that's one quick escalation."

"Yes." Quinn smiles to herself, relieved her anxiety flare-up had calmed down. "Now grab your things and let's go, shall we?" She inclines her head toward the door. "Unless you think you should spend another night here..."

Anna jumps up, eyes wide. "Nope!" she says hurriedly, spurred to action. "All good!"

She didn't have many things, or any really, just the clothes she was borrowing from Quinn until they went out shopping, so it only takes a second. "Okay, all ready!"

Anna reaches for hot chocolate on her way out but Quinn scoops it up before she can. "Nope."

"Wha—?"

Quinn holds it out of her reach, lightly shaking her head. "Sorry, but I am way too pretty for prison."

Anna's eyes narrow as Quinn takes a sip, her cheeky smile peeking out behind the rim of the cup. "But you're evil enough for it." Anna glares, stealing back her hot chocolate, then playfully nudging Quinn out the door.

Quinn hadn't been sure what to expect when she finally got Anna out into the real world, but she knew it would be an experience. Which it was. The walk from the hospital to the apartment had taken twice as long than it usually did, mainly due to Anna's distractable nature. She was in awe the entire time, acting like the town of Storybrooke was the greatest sight to behold. And maybe it was to a girl who'd only ever known the inside of a hospital. Quinn had promised to give her a proper tour after they got settled at home but that didn't stop Anna from getting preoccupied by every little thing, and every person, they walked past. Anna had fired off question after question before Quinn could attempt to speak, let alone answer one.

Admittedly it got to be a little overwhelming but Quinn liked it. She liked Anna's presence.

Weirdly, it made her feel like she had a piece of herself back.

"I hope I'm not allergic to dogs." says Anna when they finally reach the apartment door and Quinn's fiddling with the key.

"I hope you aren't either." She'd hate to have to give Marshmallow back to the shelter.

Quinn opens the door and steps inside first so she can get the lights. Anna barely gets two steps though the door before Marshmallow makes a beeline for her and pounces.

"Woah, hey!" Anna kneels down and turns her cheek happily when Marshmallow starts licking her face. "He is a Marshmallow! Like a little polar bear cub."

Anna rises to her feet and wraps her arms around Marshmallow. "Okay," she wheezes, quickly realizing her mistake. "A _not_ so little bear cub." After failing to pick him up, she sets him down and pats his head awkwardly. "Sorry, buddy."

Quinn shakes her head as she hangs up her coat. "So, this is us." she clears her throat, slightly blushing at her lame introduction.

Anna straightens up and steps further into the apartment, taking it all in. "Wow," is all she says.

After a moment's deliberation, Quinn follows her, hands clasped in front of her. She watches Anna look around, suddenly growing very self-conscious again.

"That was a Christmas gift from Brittany." she says, stepping forward when she notices Anna had stopped in front of her fjord castle painting. Admittedly something inside Quinn grows uneasy at the sight of such unusual concentration from her sister.

"Hmm." Anna tilts her head, a small wistful smile on her face. "Feels like home."

Anna looks back at her, feeling Quinn's eyes on her and quickly amends, "I mean, it's home-y. Nice colors."

"Yeah, it is." Quinn replies, at a loss of what to say otherwise.

"Have we always lived here?" Anna abruptly questions, her attention shifting back to the room as a whole.

"In Storybrooke?"

Anna nods.

"Yeah."

Now for some reason it was Quinn who suddenly found herself distracted by that fjord painting.

"But not always _here_ here, right?" Anna twirls around the center of the room absently. "Like in this apartment?" she clarifies, frowning questioningly.

Anna drops her arms when Quinn doesn't answer right away. "Quinn?" she prompts, her head tilting.

Quinn turns away from the painting quickly, guiltily, her heart beating fast. "Uh, I'm not — why do you ask?"

The right side of Anna's face scrunches up as her chin lifts in thought. "Cause I think I remember our old house."

Quinn raises her brow.

"Really."

"I dunno," Anna shrugs. "I just remember a place with lots of paintings. Like, _big_ ones. Bigger than me." She scratches her head unsurely. "Maybe I was just little at the time but they seemed so big, enormous. And I talked to them." Her face screws up again. "I think."

"Joan." Quinn whispers unthinkingly, catching herself by surprise.

Anna's mouth drops open in shock and she begins nodding wordlessly for a second there. "Yeah, Joan of Arc! You remember! Wait, _I_ remember!" Anna holds her head and literally spins with the realization. She falls back on the sofa. "Holy cow, I remembered something!"

While Anna rambles on about how great this is, how maybe this was the start of her getting her memory back, Quinn remains silent. Her mind too is reeling but for a different reason.

No way. Just no.

_We must have had a copy of Brittany's storybook growing up_, Quinn automatically reasons before she can freak herself out. _Yeah. Anna and I were remembering what we'd once read in the storybook. _

Or maybe they did have a Joan of Arc painting hanging in their old house and it was just a coincidence that there had been one mentioned in the Snow Queen story.

None of this meant that, they weren't—

Quinn shuts down that train of thought harshly, unwilling to spend another second on this lunacy.

This had to stop.

"Hey, Anna." she clears her throat, needing to distract herself. Distract them both. "Do you want to see your room?"

Anna looks up, still half engrossed in her own thoughts when Quinn's words sink in and suddenly she pops up off the sofa. "Wait, I get my own room? _No way_."

Distraction: successful.

Thankfully the subject of memories or anything related doesn't come up again. Which was Quinn's doing, of course. She made sure their conversation never veered anywhere near that territory and after dinner she subtly nudged Anna toward her bookshelf, knowing that either her movie, book, or music collection would capture her interest for a good chunk of time. And all three did. She spent the rest of the night sitting on the floor, watching Anna go through her things, setting aside piles of books she wanted to read and movies she wanted to see, all the while answering all the questions she had.

Which were _a lot_, as always, but Quinn was slowly getting used to them. She just had to take them in stride.

Later, when it comes time for bed, Quinn and Anna find themselves lingering in the hallway outside their respective bedrooms. They're in this awkward place of _to hug, to not hug_ each other goodnight. Shaking hands would just be weird, they knew, but they were sisters, _family_, they should do something, right?

Unsure of the protocol, they settle for shared smiles. "Well, night, Quinn." Anna says first.

And it's so not awkward. Not awkward at all.

Quinn watches her shuffle back into her new room. "Goodnight, Anna." she nods, turning away herself.

She moves to close the door behind her but then suddenly—

_"Even after everything we've been through you are still shutting me out!"_

Quinn jumps away from the wood like she'd been burned.

_God._

She shakes her head incredulously.

When would this just stop?

Had she been alone she would've slammed her door shut but since she wasn't, she refrains. Glancing back, she sees that Anna had opted to leave her door wide open.

Quinn returns her gaze to her own door. Then, without much thought, pushes it back against the wall to do the same.

On her way to her bed, a resigned sigh escapes her at the phrase that suddenly pops into her head.

_Love is an open door._

—

It never occurred to Santana how pathetic having only two real friends was until now when she was left without anyone to hang out with.

Brittany hasn't brought up storybook like she said she wouldn't but Santana can see it on her face every time they're with each other that it's eating at her and she knows Brittany enough to know that it's only a matter of time before she tried for some kind of sneak attack. And Santana, as much as she loved Brittany, was done with constantly being on guard around her. It was annoying and stressful. And while Quinn might be okay with humoring Brittany and going along with her bizarre theories, Santana couldn't. She just couldn't.

So she needed a little space from Brittany for right now. As for Quinn, Santana hasn't been calling her as much or visiting not because she didn't want to, she did, she just figured Quinn had her hands full with her little sister. It felt like it would for the best to just leave her be for awhile and take a step back. Let Quinn focus on taking care of Anna and let the two of them build their new sisterly relationship without any interference from her.

Which is why she's here hanging out in front of the community center, waiting around like a total loser. She needed something to do other than sit at home.

Santana straightens up when she sees a familiar hobbit walking up the steps. The girl is oblivious to her presence up until she happens to look up.

Finally.

"I'm joining your dance class." Santana declares, falling in step with Rachel without much of a sparing glance.

"Have you spoken to Miss July about it?"

"No, but I doubt it'll be a problem."

_Not with the way she was eye-fucking me last time._

"Not that I object your presence, Santana, but if you don't mind my asking, why?" Rachel opens the door to the building and Santana strides through without pause. Or thanks. "Surely you have better things to do with your time."

"I could do with a mood booster." Santana shrugs. "And watching Cassandra July humiliate you sounds exactly like the kind I need."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Glad I could help you with that." she murmurs sarcastically.

As they walk down the hallway together, Rachel side-eyes Santana's hand. "You know you really shouldn't exercise while you're still injured."

This time Santana rolls her eyes. "It's dance, Berry. I'll be on my feet, not my hands."

"Regardless you shouldn't—"

"Rachel." Santana interjects in that sharp tone Berry should know by now means _shut up, would ya?_

"Fine." Rachel turns her head in a sniff. "Don't listen to me."

The class ends up being just as Santana expected from the preview she got last time she was here. With Cassie devoting most, if not all, of her energy to mercilessly tearing down her student's confidence and slapping them with awful nicknames.

Santana's own nickname was _Selena_.

Which had disappointed her at first, cause how uninsulting was that? (after all Selena was a boss singer, may she rest in peace), but then Cassie clarified she meant _Selena_ _Gomez_ and just like that Santana went from zero to hella offended real quick.

Anyways.

Now that class was over Santana was ready to bounce. She's in the middle of slipping on her boots when she sees another pair of feet walk into her peripheral view. Santana looks up and her spine straightens in preparation for whatever criticism Cassie had at the ready. Aside from the nickname, she'd spared Santana her words during class, god knows why, but Santana knows with a bitch like Cassie involved venom was bound to be spewed eventually.

(If not it would lead to some serious indigestion).

Cassie stands before her with her cane raised behind her head, resting on her shoulders.

"Well, your form isn't terrible. But it could definitely use some adjusting." she informs, and Santana narrows her eyes slightly, waiting for the insult to drop. "I'm free after class if you want some one on one help."

There's a sort of glint to Cassie's eyes whenever she speaks to her that makes the hairs on Santana's skin stand on edge. It wasn't due to intimidation, and it definitely wasn't due to excitement, it was...

Well, she didn't know what it was honestly. Something about Cassandra July was just _off_ to her.

It wasn't the obvious drinking problem (it sure wasn't water she was glugging in that bottle she carried around). No, it was something else.

She wished she knew how to explain it.

"I'm sure you can just help me next class, Miss July." Santana politely responds, standing and shouldering her bag. Admittedly she was tempted to take up her offer, if only to get to the bottom of whatever strange vibes her Snix sense was picking up on, but her curiosity wasn't nearly strong enough for her to risk getting into a situation that reeked of trouble.

Cassie raises her shoulders, unfazed. "Fine by me." Her gaze slides over to Rachel who was still putting on her shoes. "You, Schwimmer, on the other hand seem to be only getting worse. Every time I glanced your way, all I could see was your imitation of what I assumed was a pregnant cow attempting a jig."

Cassie turns and leaves before Rachel could attempt a reply, knowing she wouldn't be able to think of a clever enough comeback anyways.

At the beginning of class Santana had to stifle her laughter the insults Cassie threw at Rachel - she could always appreciate cutting wit - but now, as crazy as it sounded, she was starting to feel kinda bad for Rachel.

Maybe this was a sign she needed her head examined. For real.

"So she just does that to you every class?" Santana questions, once it was back to being the two of them. She's not concerned or anything, just wondering.

Rachel doesn't quite meet her gaze as she nods her head. "More or less, yes."

Santana can't help but frown. "Then why don't you just quit, find something else to do?" She was starting to think Rachel was some kind of masochist, if she kept coming back to all that Cassie abuse.

"Because," Rachel sighs. "As crazy as she is, she's also the best. And if I'm going to improve my dance skills I want to learn from the best." Rachel turns her head, obviously wanting to get off the subject of Cassie July, before looking back at her. "Santana, what's going on?"

Santana frowns. "We were talking...?" she answers questioningly, her eyes narrowing. "Did you just have yourself a mini hobbit stroke right now?"

"No," Rachel shakes her head, and for the first time since Cassie, Santana sees a faint smile appear on her face, "What I meant is: what's going on with you? Obviously something, otherwise you wouldn't be here taking a dance class with me or be walking home with me right now. So what happened?" Rachel looks up at her expectantly. "Does it have something to with Quinn not being at school lately, is she okay? What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything." she glares. "It's Quinn, she's got a sister."

Rachel stares at her, taken aback. "What?"

Santana pulls open the entrance door and allows Rachel to step through first. "Yeah," she grudgingly nods. "Quinn had the hospital run some tests and one of the coma patients turned out to be her sister. To put it simply."

She was in no mood to tell the whole damn story.

"Wait, how long as she been there?"

Santana walks down the steps, shrugging. "No one can give a definite answer."

"That's..."

"Suspicious, I know."

"I was going to say odd, but yes, suspicious." Rachel tilts her head in contemplatively. "So that's what Brittany and Quinn have been hiding from you. Huh."

"Yeah." Santana nods, unwilling to bring up the storybook nonsense.

"And you of course reacted badly." Rachel realizes, quickly piecing together the reason for their estrangement.

Santana turns her head sharply. "I reacted as appropriately as someone who'd been kept in the dark about something very important in her girlfriend's life." she glares.

"So you two aren't speaking now, is that it?"

"We're not _not_ talking." Santana answers reluctantly. "I'm just giving her space to focus on the kid." she huffs, annoyed that she was feeling guilt when she had no reason to be. "It's a big responsibility taking care of another person. I don't want to get in their way."

"There is no greater responsibility than caring for another human being." Rachel agrees. "That being said don't you think Quinn might need you now more than ever right now?"

"If she needed me she would've told me about this as it was all fucking unfolding instead of after the fact." she retorts. (And, huh, maybe she was more bitter about that than she realized).

Rachel nods as if she'd been waiting for that kind of remark. "So you are being distant for a reason. Not just to give her space, as you so selflessly put it. You're still upset."

Santana rolls her eyes. "I am not."

Rachel raises one eyebrow. "Did Quinn not apologize for keeping this secret from you?"

"No, she did."

"So you're just sulking then. You don't like this change and you're taking it out on her by shutting her out."

Santana comes to a sudden stop and whips around. "I am not sulking." she snaps indignantly. God, she really fucked hated when people tried to tell her things about herself. Like, hello, who fucking knows her better than she does? No one. "And I'm not shutting her out. Jesus, I just needed time to fucking wrap my head around her suddenly having a goddamn sister. It's not a big deal. And anyways it's not like Quinn's complaining about not seeing enough of me. She's obviously okay with it."

"And what of Brittany?" Rachel wants to know. "I noticed you two haven't been so close as of late, are you not speaking to her because she was in on Quinn's secret and didn't tell you?"

"No," Santana turns her head, sighing. "I just—"

Santana stops herself. She shakes her head and resumes walking. Nope. Not getting into it. "Brittany's just...being Brittany and I don't have my usual patience to deal with her."

Rachel nods in understanding but remains silent and for a few blessed seconds Santana thinks it's the end of the conversation, but of course with Rachel, that's never the case.

"You know, despite your obviously strong feelings for her, you keep finding excuses to keep Quinn at a distance—"

Santana's eyes widen. Like, really, what the fuck? "No, I don't!"

Rachel raises her brow and gives her this kind of incredulous look. "She's going through this major change in her life and you're not even trying to be there for her." she points out.

"Quinn knows I'll be there for her the second she needs me!" Santana exclaims defensively, temper flaring.

Rachel holds up her hands placatingly. "All I'm saying is, if you want this relationship with Quinn to work, you can't keep making up excuses to shut her out. If you do, one day you might just end up pushing her away for good."

Santana shakes her head, maybe to get that unpleasant visual out of her brain. She would never admit it out loud but she knew Rachel was right. And it annoyed the fuck out of her. "God, Berry. Since when are you the relationship expert? You're not even dating anyone."

"This isn't dating expertise, Santana," Rachel sighs with a roll her eyes. "This is simply human understanding."

"Human understanding." she snorts. "_Okay._"

"You would do well to consider my advice, Santana."

"I don't need to consider anything, _Berry_." She doesn't need to consider it because she already knows she was being ridiculous and maybe going about everything wrong. She just wished she knew why.

And why she kept letting it happen.

—

It's been a long day. A long couples of days, actually, spent taking Anna around town, shopping for clothes, and reintroducing her to the world.

It wasn't nearly as stressful as Quinn thought it was going to be, just a lot of activity. And very energy consuming.

She didn't begrudge Anna or anything, of course, she thoroughly enjoyed their time together. She just happened to thoroughly look forward to the _end_ of each day too.

And sleep! How she looked forward to sleep. Before, she could get away with only needing a few hours of sleep, but now she really needed her eight hours. If not there was no keeping up with Anna.

"Quinn!"

Speak of the energizer bunny.

Reluctantly, Quinn lifts her head from her pillow just as Anna barges into her room like it isn't the middle of the night.

"Quinn, what's the likelihood you'll contract scarlet fever?"

Quinn rubs one of her eyes. She hadn't been completely asleep but she'd been asleep enough to be dazed by this sudden intrusion. "Huh?"

"Scarlet fever." Anna huffs, clambering onto her bed while Quinn fumbles for the light switch.

Once the light is on Quinn turns around to face her and it's then that she realizes whatever Anna was going on about had her legitimately distraught.

"Wha—hey, are you okay?"

(A dumb question to ask someone who's clearly not okay but in her defense she literally woke up five seconds ago).

"No, I'm not okay." Anna snatches up one of her pillows and hugs it against her chest. "Why didn't you tell me Beth dies?" she demands, suddenly swatting Quinn with the pillow. "A little heads up would've been nice."

Quinn shakes her head, her brain a little slow right now. "What? Beth who?"

It takes a second, but then she remembers. She'd lent Anna her copy of _Little Women _after she'd taken an interest in it while perusing her bookshelf. She'd been devouring the book ever since. "Oh_,_ _that_ Beth." Her brow furrows questioningly. "I'm sorry? I guess I didn't want to spoil things for you."

"Well you should have," Anna huffs, twisting around and pushing the pillow into the bed. "Because I just had this terrible, rotten, no good dream." With every adjective she fluffs up the pillow - or smacks it, more accurately - before flopping on her back to stare at the ceiling. "You died of scarlet fever and it was awful. _Then_, before I could even mourn you, I got my butt shipped off to fight in the Civil War even though I'm a girl and I got put on the Confederate side and no one would let me fight for the Union like I wanted and Rhett Butler was there, unhelpfully telling me he didn't _give a damn_." Okay, so maybe it hadn't been a good idea to show Anna _Gone with the_ _Wind_ right before bed. (She'd just figured since Anna was interested in Civil War era material...). "And then next thing I know I'm back in the hospital here in town, and the doctors keep telling me I've fallen back into my coma even though I'm clearly awake but they won't listen—it takes me _forever_ to break out and when I finally do, a hundred years has passed and everyone in Storybrooke is gone and I'm all alone again!"

"Anna," Quinn's shoulders drop empathetically, knowing better than anyone how upsetting dreams could be. "It's okay. It was just a dream." A ridiculous dream, but thankfully ridiculous in the normal dream sense, not ridiculous in the _you might be remembering a past life we had as fairy tale characters_ sense.

"It didn't feel like one," Anna mumbles, rolling onto her side. "Especially the hospital part. What if the next time I fall asleep I fall back into my coma?"

Quinn lightly shakes her head. "That won't happen."

"It could, you don't know."

Quinn rolls her eyes, albeit fondly. "Anna, you are more likely to develop an allergy to chocolate than to fall back into your coma."

Anna scoffs dismissively. "Well that's just ridiculous," she mumbles, shaking her head. "That would never happen."

Quinn smiles faintly and sighs to herself.

"Do you want to sleep here tonight?"

Anna perks up. "Can I?"

Quinn nods. She had a feeling Anna wouldn't be able to get back to sleep otherwise. "But if you start snoring," she warns, already shifting back under the covers. "I will not hesitate to kick you out."

"Well, I _never _— I do not snore!" Pause. "Well —I mean, I don't know for sure, but I'm pretty sure I don't!"

Quinn turns off the lights, smiling to herself.

"_Goodnight_, Anna."

Quinn closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She hopes to fall asleep right away, but after a few minutes of drifting in and out of consciousness, it becomes apparent that wasn't going to happen. Not with Anna tossing and turning behind her.

Resigned, Quinn blindly grasps for the lights, then rolls onto her other side. She cracks one eye open to meet Anna's apologetic grimace. "Sorry."

Quinn shakes her head. "I know," While tired, she knows she couldn't exactly blame Anna. "It's hard to get to sleep right away after a bad dream."

Anna relaxes a little. "Can we talk then? For a little while? Maybe it'll help make me tired—Not that I think talking to you is tiring or anything!" she clarifies quickly, panicked.

Quinn stifles a yawn and nods. She props her head up with her hand, still blinking blearily. "What should we talk about?"

"I don't know, how about..." Anna's gaze travels past Quinn's shoulder before she fixes her with a sly grin. "How about we talk about your _girlfriend?_"

Quinn lifts her head, suddenly more awake than ever. "_What?_" she splutters, hazel eyes widening in confusion. And shock.

She knows for certain in the few instances she's mentioned Santana in front of Anna, she never said anything about her being her girlfriend, so how on earth did Anna know this...?

"It's kind of obvious." Anna says, pushing off the bed. She gets up and goes over to Quinn's vanity, where she has a few photos tucked into the frame of her mirror. Some were of glee club but most were of Santana, Brittany, and herself.

Anna takes one of the photos and brings it back to the bed with her. "I mean who else but someone you're romantically loved up on could get a smile like _this_ out of you?"

Anna shows her the photo and Quinn can't help but smile. It was one of just her and Santana taken at the park, with Santana sitting on one of the swings and Quinn on her lap. Her face was split in a very wide, very happy grin, the kind of smile that didn't show itself often as Anna knew. Quinn loved this photo because it captured Santana's dimpled smile which she adored so much.

(Okay, so she adored Santana as a whole, of course, but her smile was particularly charming).

"You know the first time I saw that picture I thought she looked really familiar." Anna mentions as she plops back down on the bed. "How long have you two been together?"

"A few months." Quinn replies absently, still admiring the photo. "Though it feels like I've known her longer."

_Much longer._

When that thought registers, Quinn turns her head abruptly, jaw tensing. Why couldn't her brain just knock it off?

"Is her favorite color red?"

Quinn's gaze snaps back. Anna is now staring up at the ceiling, a questioning frown settled across her face.

"Uh, yeah. Actually it is." Quinn answers, though slightly unnerved. She steals a glance at her other photos, just to check, but she already knows that in none of those photos is Santana wearing enough red for it to be interpreted as her favorite color. In half the photos she's not even wearing red at all.

"Huh."

For some reason Anna doesn't seem to find it strange that she knows the favorite color of a girl she's never met but Quinn isn't about to bring it up as such. Not at the risk of opening up a can of worms she just really needed to go away at this point.

"_So?_" Anna flips to her side, brow raised expectantly.

Quinn, not knowing what her sister was prompting, blinks. "What?"

"What's she like?" Anna laughs, shooting her a 'duh' look. "You gotta tell me all about her."

Quinn raises one eyebrow. "Oh, I do, do I?"

Quinn cracks a smile in spite of herself then, watching as Anna shifts onto her stomach and props her chin up with her hands like a child ready for story time. "Uh, yeah! It's important I make sure you're dating someone worthy of your awesome. So spill it, sister."

Quinn blows out a breath, a small laugh escaping her.

_Where to even start?_

—

Santana waits until it's late in the night before going to visit Quinn. She figures by now little Molly Ringwald will be fast asleep so that will give her and Quinn time to talk without any interruptions.

Santana doesn't know how her talks with Rachel always manage to get her ass in gear - she's probably just really susceptible to her weird hobbit mind powers - but she's grateful for them either way.

(She's pretty sure being grateful for anything Berry does is a sign of the Apocalypse but that's a concern for another day).

Tonight her only concern is putting this dumb behavior of hers behind her once and for all. (And hopefully getting some snowflake kisses when she does).

When she gets to Quinn's apartment Santana goes through the usual motions of climbing up the fire escape, opening the window, and ducking inside.

The room is dark but Santana doesn't really think anything of it, other than she's glad Quinn was at least getting some sleep. Maneuvering carefully, she walks over to the form curled up on the bed and presses her knee into the mattress. "Quinn."

She keeps her tone hushed as her hand rubs over the blonde's thigh. "Move over, snowflake."

Quinn makes a grumbling noise from under the blankets but doesn't budge. Santana shakes her head. "Babe," she prompts, giving her a couple pokes.

"Quinn, it's too early."

Huh?

Quinn rolls over onto her other side, shifting the blanket down a little. Suddenly a mess of red hair is revealed but it takes a couple seconds before Santana's sleep deprived brain puts two and two together.

_Hey, wait a second —_

Sleepy blue eyes blink open at the same time it clicks for Santana.

Then a shriek.

Santana jumps back because _what the fuck_ and all of a sudden the lights are coming on and Quinn's on the other side of the bed, and not in front of Santana like she's supposed to be, and there's two people in the bed, and only one of them was Quinn, and she'd totally just felt up Quinn's coma kid of a sister_—_

Oh God.

"Santana?" Quinn comes around the bed, her eyes trying to adjust to the light. "What are you doing here?"

"_Jesus_." Santana swears, her heart pounding. She angrily gestures to Anna. "What's she doing in your bed?"

"She was having trouble sleeping." Quinn answers tiredly, no less confused by her presence. "Are you okay?"

"Holy cow," Anna breathes, now sitting upright and staring at Santana in relief. "I thought you were a burglar."

Santana ignores Anna and her seriously effed up bed hair. "I'm fine," she says to Quinn. "I just forgot..." She trails off, suddenly feeling very awkward and stupid. "Sorry, I should've called first."

Quinn steps forward as she begins backing away toward the window. "Wait, Santana."

"It's okay, I'll just talk to you later." she promises, getting out of there before Quinn could try to get her to stay.

Halfway home, it occurs to Santana that she had taken off running. Like full out running. And she has no idea why, it's not like anyone was out to get her or anything.

Good God.

Rolling her eyes to herself — _seriously what the fuck is wrong with her? _— Santana immediately starts slowing her pace.

She barely gets to a complete stop when this blonde blur comes out of nowhere and nearly runs her down. "What the—_Quinn?_" Santana does a double-take at her, then looks away and back again, wondering how the hell she hadn't realized she'd had Quinn tailing her this whole time.

"Shortcut." Quinn clarifies breathlessly, pointing in the adjacent direction Santana had been staring at.

"You fucking chased me down?"

Quin sweeps the hair out of her face, a small scoff escaping her. "Yes, well you were running away from me. _Again_. What was I supposed to do, just let it happen?"

Santana's eyes narrow petulantly. "I wasn't running away."

Quinn raises her brow but drops it just as quickly. "Santana," she sighs heavily, "let's just talk."

"No offense I really don't feel like talking right now. Besides," she says, speaking over Quinn's attempted protest. "You should get back to your little orphan Annie. You leave her alone long enough and you might come back to your apartment on fire or something."

"_Santana_."

"What?" Santana raises her shoulders innocently. "I once read an article that said all gingers are pyromaniacs. Those flames like, really get them all hot and bothered. Literally."

Unsurprisingly, Quinn doesn't find that comment amusing. Like at all. "Santana, you came to see me for a reason, right?"

Santana exhales, but doesn't admit to anything.

"Look, I don't know about you but I hate the way things have been between us." Quinn begins. "It feels like we're in some weird long distance relationship. I mean we hardly talk let alone see each other..." she trails off, purposefully leaving it open for Santana to jump in with her explanation of things but Santana doesn't have the words to reply.

She wanted to talk. Really. That's what she came here to fucking do. But it was like her body was turning on her, and she couldn't seem to make her lips and tongue cooperate.

"Santana?" Quinn prompts, her eyes silently pleading with her.

Santana struggles for what feels like several long painful minutes, but in reality is only seconds. Then Rachel's words about pushing Quinn away find their way back to the forefront of her mind and it ignites enough of a fire under her ass to start talking.

She isn't going to lose Quinn over this. She won't.

"I had a dream I killed you." she blurts out, and oh god, _she's really doing this_. "I _keep_ having a dream I kill you." She averts her gaze, her body trembling from the strong urge she has to just shut her mouth and get the fuck out of here. "That's one of the reasons why I was been acting so weird these past couple weeks. It really messed with my head and freaked me out. It's stupid I know, they're just dreams but with the way my temper's been, I just didn't want you to be afraid of me, or think I was some kind of raging psychopath or something."

There. She fessed up. She honestly didn't feel any better - in fact she felt like she might just be sick - but at least the words were out.

Quinn's gaze softens. She steps forward and reaches out tentatively, hand cupping her cheek. "Santana you are not a psychopath."

Santana rolls her neck and shrugs Quinn off. Usually she found comfort in Quinn's touch but right now she was just too tightly wound for it. "You don't know that. Small towns like this are breeding grounds for crazy!"

"They're just dreams." Quinn maintains, her hand moving to Santana's forearm, grounding her.

Santana looks down and away, grimacing. "Yeah, really violent dreams that sometimes I think I enjoy."

She'd never acknowledged that fact until now and if anything, it only makes her feel ten times more disgusted with herself.

Quinn's hand slides away thank god, Santana felt like she had something crawling under her skin. "What exactly happens in these dreams?"

Santana stiffens. "Quinn—"

"I'm only asking so I can possibly help you understand why you're having them." Quinn assures.

Santana clamps her eyes shut, knowing if she was going to do this, she _had to do this_. She just didn't want to get into the grizzly details. "I'm always in the woods," she begins, forcing herself to meet Quinn's gaze. "And sometimes Biff is there - I know, I know I don't know why the fuck he's there either." she rushes, catching the flash of confusion in Quinn's eyes. She rolls her eyes. "Anyways he's there in his stupid prince costume and every word that comes out of his mouth just makes me want to fucking _lose it_ and I do. I literally become this animal and I attack him and there's so much blood..." Santana jerks her head, really not wanting to revisit the visuals. "Then he becomes you, even though he's the one I want to hurt, and you're begging me to stop and calling me Red but I just _can't_ stop."

Quinn goes silent for a moment, taking the time to process her words.

"Okay, you've been having dreams about Biff and hurting him."

"And then he always turns into you." Santana murmurs, nodding in confirmation. She exhales softly, relieved that at least Quinn was taking this calmly and not freaking out.

Quinn purses her lips. "Maybe Biff turns into me because subconsciously you resent me for—"

Santana shuts down that train of thought before Quinn can finish. "That's ridiculous." she cuts off. "I don't resent you for any reason."

"Santana," Quinn stares at her knowingly but not unkindly. "I know you hate this situation with Anna. And I'm sorry I can't do anything about it, other than promise you having her in my life now doesn't mean you'll get cast aside."

Santana can't help her indignant glare. "I know that." she scoffs. "I'm not that insecure."

Quinn chooses not to say anything to that.

"Were you a wolf?" she questions instead, making Santana's breath catch.

"What?"

"In your dream." Quinn elaborates, treading carefully. "You said you would turn into an animal."

"Yeah," Her voice edges on the defensive. "What does it matter?"

Quinn stares at her a moment, hesitation on her face. She looks away briefly, lightly shaking her head. "It's just strange."

"Strange?" Santana repeats, regarding her with narrowed eyes. She wanted to know what Quinn was really going to say.

"Strange considering you don't know Biff." Quinn nods. "I mean, you've only ever seen him once when Mercedes pointed him out to you at the store, right?" Santana rolls eyes. Of course Mercedes would've told Quinn about that. "Why dream about someone you've never met?"

"Hell if I know why." she shrugs. "My hatred for him is just that intense I guess."

Quinn furrows her brow. "You hate Biff for what, _talking_ to me a couple times?"

"He totally wanted you."

"Santana," Quinn scoffs disbelievingly. "You've never spoken to him, never heard any of our conversations, how can you possibly get to that conclusion? Just because he's a guy and I'm a girl?"

"Exactly!" she exclaims. "Guys are never just friends with girls. There's always some kind of agenda. And Biff most definitely has one. I know because of my Snix Sense. I can always tell when something's not right with someone."

Once again Quinn looks like she was about to say something, only to change her mind.

Santana narrows her eyes, trying to figure out what had her so conflicted. "What is it?"

"I just," Quinn drops her head, eyes shutting, "Brittany's storybook has been on my mind lately."

Santana pulls back slightly, frowning in confusion. "You said you didn't believe in any of that."

"If you want to get technical I never actually said that." Quinn says quietly, not quite meeting her eyes.

"So, what are you trying to say? That you do?"

Santana turns her head briefly, scoffing at the very idea.

"I'm not saying it's true necessarily," Quinn wavers, prompting Santana to glance back at her judgmentally, "I just..." She crosses her arms self-consciously. "I don't know what to think when it turns out every dream I've had for the past few months either relates to or is straight out of Brittany's storybook."

Santana drops her arms. "Quinn," she sighs. "You're letting that book fuck with your mind. You probably had a copy of it when you were real young and it just, I dunno, got stuck in your brain."

"I tried telling myself that too," Quinn whispers brokenly, "but this is something more than just remembering a story out of a book."

Santana stares at Quinn, unwilling to believe her ears. She couldn't. "Quinn, come on." she implores harshly. "This isn't funny."

Quinn laughs humorlessly, shaking her head. "I know it isn't."

The seconds begin to tick by, but Santana is willing to wait for Quinn to admit the hoax.

"Believe me, Santana, _I know how it sounds_—"

"Obviously you don't if you're suggesting what Brittany believes is true!" Santana snaps.

Quinn covers her face for a second. "Santana, you don't get it." Her hands drop in defeat, her head shaking. "I have a sister at home, a sister who I wouldn't even know about if it wasn't for that book, remembering things that I _know_ aren't from this life. And now you're here telling me you've been dreaming of yourself as a wolf and I was there calling you _Red _of all names...?"

"No." Santana shakes her head, refusing to believe this was fucking happening. "Brittany did not get to you."

No, no. No.

This _couldn't_ be happening.

But Quinn's face was saying otherwise.

Her hands fly to her head as she swears loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood. "_Jesus fucking Christ_. You're not supposed to believe in this!"

"Then what am I supposed to believe Santana?" Quinn demands, trying to get Santana to look at her. "Because I've tried to rationalize all the weirdness that surrounds our very existence but _I can't keep doing it. _Not when—"

Santana whips around sharply, eyes wide. "If you honestly believe we're cursed fairy tale characters and this life is total lie, you need a psychiatrist or a psychologist. Or both."

"_Santana_—" Quinn pleads.

"No." She flat out refuses, her breathing ragged. "I'm not wasting another minute arguing this, alright? Come find me when you're sane again."

Santana turns and walks away, unable to stand here for another second.

"Santana!"

She doesn't bother to look back even as Quinn's voice pleaded with her to stop. She couldn't.

"Don't follow me!"

—

It's always something.

Why was it always something?

It's like every time Santana gets over herself enough to talk to Quinn, she gets the rug pulled out from under her feet as a reward.

And Jesus Christ, she was so sick of it.

Santana leans against the wall, absently turning over the granny smith apple in her hands. She'd had no appetite for breakfast this morning but abuela wouldn't let her leave the house empty-handed. She's here waiting in town hall for Rachel to show up so they could do their interview with Mayor Corcoran. It feels like forever they've been waiting for her to clear time for them but she guessed as mayor she was pretty busy, you know running the town and all.

Santana turns her head at the sudden sound of the front entrance door being opened. Finally it's Rachel who walks through. She wasn't late or anything, Santana had just been embarrassingly early, anxious to get on with this interview. After last night she was going to need the distraction the rest of this project was going to provide.

"Hello, Santana."

Rachel's smile fades when she takes in Santana's sore state. Her shoulders drop sympathetically. "Okay, what happened?"

Santana pushes away from the wall. "Nothing." she shrugs. "Just tired."

Rachel raises her brow. "_Santana_." she says in that parental tone Santana hates. "You're clearly upset. What happened this time?"

Santana hesitates only briefly. "I told Quinn about my dreams." she says, frankly too tired to be stubborn and evasive like she usually is.

"So she was the one you kept killing." Santana tenses up, not liking the words 'Quinn' and 'kill' in the same sentence. "I figured as much." Rachel nods. "How did she take it, not well?"

Santana shakes her head. "No." she sighs. "She was very understanding."

"Then what?"

Santana's jaw tenses as she remembers all that had happened _after_ she and Quinn had talked about her dreams. She'd refused to bring up the storybook last she'd talked with Rachel but now with everything going on with Quinn, she couldn't not. She needed someone to back her up against this lunacy.

But, rather, she needed to make sure this whole town was losing their fucking minds on her.

"Quinn and Brittany," Santana pauses. God. She can't believe she was going to say this. "They've got it in their heads that we all lived a past life as fairy tale characters!"

Rachel stares at her quizzically. "Excuse me?"

"Oh yeah," she smiles bitterly, head nodding, "It's this whole thing."

Santana breaks then, every assorted detail rushing out, Brittany's storybook, the evil curse they were all supposedly under, all the crazy coincidences that supposedly 'proved' it, _everything_. She barely spares a breath in between, it all still works her up so much. (She doesn't care what anybody's says, she is _not_ a fucking wolf).

"Wow." is all Rachel says when she finishes.

Santana just nods, letting her digest everything. To her dismay, she doesn't feel any better getting it off her chest. If anything she feels worse, because now it was out of her hands and if Rachel ended up siding with Quinn and Brittany, she's not sure what she'll do.

"Okay," Rachel starts out slowly and Santana's stomach tenses up in anticipation. "Brittany I could understand believing in such a fantasy but _Quinn?_" Rachel cocks her head, eyes squinted in disbelief. "Really?"

Santana nods her head vigorously, exhaling in relief. "Exactly! I mean, fuck, out of the three of us she's usually the most rational!"

"Are you sure they aren't just playing a practical joke on you? Early preparation for April Fool's perhaps?"

"If this is a joke they're fucking committed to it." she scoffs. "They're dead serious from what I can tell."

And, honest to god, she had no idea what to do about it.

"Quinn now has to take care of a little sister. I'm sure it's not all sunshine and roses." Santana stares at her oddly, not sure where she was going with this. "When we're under stress our minds can jump to all kinds of conclusions and be plagued with irrational thoughts. Maybe that's all that this is. For Quinn at least." Rachel offers. "I'm sure once things calm down with Anna and Quinn gets into the swing of things she'll comes to her senses. As for Brittany, well—"

"Look, I don't wanna talk about this here." Santana cuts off suddenly, her body tensing when two office workers happen to walk past them. She didn't need people overhearing and spreading this crazy through the rest of the town. "Can we...?" She tilts her head to the side and Rachel nods, leading the way to the Mayor's office without further question.

Rachel turns to her when they're alone in the elevator going up. "So who do they think I am?"

Santana snorts at the sudden question but she supposes she can't blame her for being curious. She tosses her apple to Rachel. "I'd stay away from the red ones if I were you, princess."

It takes a second before Rachel's brow shoots up in realization. "Wait, Snow White?" Santana nods. "Really?"

Santana rolls her eyes at the stupidly pleased smile that settles across the hobbit's face.

_God._

The elevator dings and they step out. Santana follows Rachel down the hallway and through some double doors before walking into a reception like area where a young guy was typing away at a desk.

"Hello, Jesse." Rachel brightly greets.

"Rachel." Jesse greets cordially in return, immediately standing and making his way over to them. "Having a good day?"

Santana crinkles her nose at the way this Jesse kid talks and dresses. With the tie and vest combo and the set of curls, it was like looking at younger, slightly gayer version of Mr. Schue.

Weird.

After exchanging pleasantries with Rachel, Jesse looks back at Santana. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Santana Lopez, from school." Rachel introduces. "Santana, this is Jesse St. James. He's Shelby's personal assistant."

Santana fakes a smile. "Nice meeting you, Jess."

"_Jesse_." he corrects, offering a less than sincere smile of his own before reverting his attention to Rachel. "You two can go ahead and wait in Shelby's office. She's held up in a meeting now but she shouldn't be much longer."

"Thank you Jesse." Rachel smiles.

On the way in, Santana definitely feels Jesse's eyes following her into the office.

So, weird _and_ creepy.

Closing the door behind her, Santana releases a low whistle at the fancy digs before her. "Damn, is this what our tax money goes to?"

The office looked too grandeur to belong in a government building, she thinks. It felt more befitting a penthouse apartment or a hotel lobby or something. "A shame you didn't inherit your mother's refined taste, hobbit." Santana absently picks up the vase off the coffee table and peers at the bottom, looking for a price tag.

"Santana!" Rachel hisses when she sees what she's up to.

Santana rolls her eyes and puts the vase down, carefully. There was no price tag anyways. "I'm just saying, it's a far cry from your Tweety Bird puke colored bedroom."

"Stop snooping." Rachel warns, tossing her apple back to her when Santana's close enough. Santana shoves it back in her purse, huffing indignantly.

"I'm just _admiring_."

Rachel just shakes her head.

While they wait Santana tries to think back on what she knew about Mayor Corcoran. Not much, she realized. She couldn't even picture what the woman looked like, which was odd, she's been dragged to enough town events in her lifetime, you'd think she'd have some kind of memory of her.

Come to think of it Santana can't remember when she took office, either.

Was there even a campaign?

Santana contemplates this as her eyes finishes their sweep across the room. Catching her eye this time: a basket of red apples on one of the end tables. They were hard not to notice, being the only splash of color in the otherwise monotoned decor.

Santana shakes her head to herself, snorting quietly. _Of course_. Someone who was supposed to be the 'Evil Queen' wouldn't be decorating her lair with pears.

She casts aside her ridiculous thoughts when the office door opens. She half-expects it to be Jesse, for some reason - maybe because she got vibes he was into Rachel - but it's not him. Just the Mayor herself.

"Sorry I'm late, girls."

Right away Santana's struck by the resemblance. Mayor Corcoran in her sophisticated purple blouse and black pencil skirt was like older, fairer Rachel with a slightly less awful nose.

Santana musters a polite smile while mother and daughter interact about the former's previous meeting.

"Shelby, I'd like you to meet my friend Santana Lopez." Rachel says once they're done, gesturing to her. "Santana, Mayor Shelby Corcoran."

Staring at her, Santana suddenly feels like she has met this woman before after all.

"Nice to meet you Mayor Corcoran."

"Please, just Shelby will do." Mayor Corcoran smiles, extending her hand.

Santana takes her hand unthinkingly, only to jump the second they make contact, slapped with a sudden vision of chaos. _Of a courtyard and fighting, a haze of bloodlust._

What the—?

Santana blinks as Shelby frowns at her in concern. "Sorry!" she apologizes with a quick shake of her head. "Nervous spasm, I guess."

_God, what a fucking great impression, Lopez._

Shelby just nods and beckons them to take to the chairs opposite her desk. While she walks around her desk, Rachel and Santana take their seats. "I'm glad to finally meet you, Santana. I've heard a lot about you."

Santana musters a smile, still slightly off-kilter. "Terrible things I'm sure."

"You're not that bad, Santana." Rachel promises with a smile. "Now shall we get started?" she asks, looking to Shelby. "We know you have a very busy schedule and don't want to monopolize too much of your time."

Meanwhile Santana pulls out her notebook from her bag, still a little concerned by the images left lingering in her mind.

"It's nothing, Rachel." Shelby assures, slightly leaning back in her chair. "Take all the time you need. No rush."

Rachel begins with a clear of her throat and straightens up. "So, Shelby, what made you want to be mayor?"

"I'm a bit of a control freak." Shelby admits with a laugh.

"Huh." Santana looks back at Rachel, her smile wry.

"I just love this town and want the best leadership for it." Shelby goes on to say.

"And you think you're the best?" Santana asks.

Shelby meets her gaze head on, nodding confidently. "I know I am."

Santana smiles to herself as she writes. "Man, you two are related." She looks up to ask her next question. "How long have you lived here?"

"For as long as I can remember."

Santana blinks, caught off-guard by the words that infiltrated her mind. Quinn's words from ages ago. _"For as long as I can_ _remember_._ That's the common phrase people used when you ask them about their lives in Storybrooke. And yet no one really seems able to."_

"My whole life." Shelby amends, noticing her odd expression. "I've lived here my whole life."

"You," Santana clears her throat after lightly shaking her head. Now was not the time to dwell on that shit. "You ever think about leaving?"

"And why would I want to do that?" Shelby wonders, her head tilting in vague amusement.

"There's an entire world out there." Santana offers simply. "I mean, after living here so long, don't you ever get tired of this place?"

Shelby contemplates this for a moment before ultimately shaking her head. "No I can't say I do." she freely admits. "I can't imagine finding the happiness I get here anywhere else." Noticing Santana's expression, her lips quirk up. "You think I'm crazy."

"No, I just find it weird you don't want more out of your life."

But hey, to each her own.

Shelby's smile fades a little. "I've had more." she confesses, though with some reluctance. "And frankly it's overrated."

"Everyone's different, I guess." she shrugs. "I mean I'm practically counting down the days to when I graduate and can get out of here."

"Is Storybrooke that bad?" Shelby chuckles. "And here I was thinking I was doing a pretty good job with this town."

"You are." Rachel speaks up, and for a moment Santana flushes with embarrassment because she kind of took over the interview for a second there. "It's just that sometimes change is needed."

"Not everyone can stand to stay in one place for so long and not start going a little stir-crazy." Santana nods. "And I'm way too pretty for crazy."

"Well it sounds like change is in the air." Shelby comments and Santana can't tell if she's happy about that or not. Her voice and face were saying two different things. "What with Rachel wanting to go to school in New York and—"

"Me also wanting to go to New York." Santana finishes. "But not because of your daughter," she clarifies quickly. "Cause ew." Wait. Probably not the thing to say considering Shelby like, created Rachel. "Sorry, no offense." she throws out, prompting Rachel to just roll her eyes and Shelby to chuckle.

Before they can move onto anymore questions, they're interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by Jesse stepping out. "Sorry to interrupt Shelby but you've got a couple calls on the line and they're very insistent that you—"

Shelby rolls her eyes but nods in understanding. "I'm sorry girls." She rises from her chair. "I have to take these. Rachel, if you need anything more, you know just to call me."

The two of them move to stand as Shelby comes around her desk.

"It was nice meeting you, Santana." Shelby gives her shoulder a passing touch and for whatever reason, it makes her flinch. Again. This time a flash of purple smoke and shattered glass cutting across her mind.

Okay, what the hell?

Shelby rubs her forefinger and thumb together curiously. "I must have a lot of static electricity hanging around me today." she comments.

Santana watches Shelby go, suddenly unsure. And unnerved.

Yeah. _Static_.

—

Brittany hated this.

She hadn't meant for any of this to happen. Well, okay, _yes_ she wanted Quinn and Santana to know the truth, but she didn't want to make trouble for their relationship in the process.

Now Santana wasn't talking her or Quinn, Quinn wasn't talking to Santana and, judging by amount of silence Brittany was currently stuck with, Quinn wasn't talking to _her_ either. She hasn't even touched the milkshake Brittany had bought her.

Brittany was trying to handle things as best she could. Obviously she wasn't doing that great of a job, but she supposed that's what she gets for making things up as she went along. Then again, it's not like she could just google _how to convince friends of a past life and break a curse_ or read a how-to book on this stuff.

If only she could. Then maybe she'd have an idea how to fix this mess.

At a loss, Brittany pushes her gaze away from their table, across the diner. Not long ago Anna had wandered off to put money in the jukebox but has since planted herself at the counter, having made a friend out of the fry cook Lou by the look of things. Not that it was surprising. Anna was such a people person she could easily make strangers into friends.

Brittany smiles a little. Then glances back at Quinn, who was staring out the window, lost in thought. "What are you thinking?" she tentatively asks.

Quinn turns her head, sighing. "I'm thinking I should have never told Santana I believed in the curse." she says quietly.

"You were just being honest with her." Brittany replies. "She came clean to you about her dreams and you did the same about the storybook."

Quinn's gaze drops to her untouched chocolate milkshake. "If I keep up with this curse nonsense I'm going to lose her." she mumbles despondently. "If I haven't already."

"You're not going to lose her." Brittany gently reassures. "I know Santana and she wouldn't just go and throw away what you guys have over this."

"You didn't see how mad she was, Brittany." Quinn utters stressfully, lifting her head. "She tells me all about these traumatizing dreams of being a killer wolf and I go and insinuate that the things of her nightmares are reality. Now she thinks I'm crazy. And god," Quinn slaps her hands over face, moaning, "I _am_ crazy. Why do I even believe in this?"

"Because it's the truth." Brittany says as Quinn drops her hands. "It's crazy and bizarre and unreal, but it's the truth."

Quinn turns away with a shake of her head. "I should have just left well enough alone."

"She needed to know, Quinn."

"Did she?" Quinn questions bitterly. "Because it doesn't feel that way. That book has done nothing but cause trouble and bring headaches."

Brittany raises her brow. "That book is the reason you found your sister." she reminds.

Quinn falters, then rolls her eyes. "Okay," she amends, "_One_ good thing came out of it."

Brittany rolls her eyes in return and takes a sip of her milkshake. Then another, thinking.

"Santana has been spending a lot of time with Rachel." she brings up, pulling away from her straw. "What if we tell Rachel about curse? Then maybe Santana will—"

"Brittany," Quinn interjects tiredly, "If Santana won't listen to us, her best friends, she isn't going to listen to anybody else."

Brittany concedes to a nod. "Yeah, I guess you're right." She leans back against the booth and folds her arms, frustrated. "I just don't know what else to do. What if Anna—"

"No," Quinn firmly shuts down. "Anna stays out of this."

Brittany stares at her incredulously. "So you're not going to tell her at all about this?"

Quinn just shakes her head.

"Quinn," Brittany pushes forward. "You said it yourself she's remembering things that are straight out of the book. If she's anything like us, she's going to start remembering more and more things. You can't just lie to her and say they're nothing."

"I'm not. She thinks she's just remembering memories of our life here in Storybrooke." Quinn responds, stealing a glance in her sister's direction.

"But they're not. Quinn, she deserves to know the truth."

"The truth," Quinn scoffs harshly, "If that's even what this is, is making no one happy Britt. No one. And god, even if we all believed in the curse, what exactly are we supposed to do about it?" she demands to know, her eyes narrowing. "Start in on the rest of the town? Lead an uprising against the mayor?"

Brittany's eyes widen. "Shut up, would you?" she hisses, kicking Quinn under the table.

"She's not here, Britt." Quinn hisses in kind.

"This is _her_ town. She's probably got eyes and ears everywhere." Brittany glances around, suddenly nervous. Damnit, she should've known better. "We shouldn't even be talking about this here."

"You're being paranoid." Quinn tells her. "Now answer my question."

"Well we'd demand she give us our memories back, first off." Brittany reluctantly replies, keeping her voice hushed. "And then when that doesn't work, which it probably won't, we'll have to threaten her—"

"With what, _a song and dance?_"

"Honestly, I don't know." Brittany huffs, glaring at her for that smartass comment. "I'm still figuring it out. In the book it says that _true love's kiss_ can break any curse. But you and Santana have kissed plenty of times and nothing's happened..." Her words trail off when she notices Quinn's disheartened expression. "Santana _is_ your true love." But still Quinn doesn't meet her gaze. "Look it may not feel like it now what with everything going on between you two. But true love, well, if it were easy, then it wouldn't be true love."

Quinn shakes her head dismissively. "Look Brittany I should get going."

"Quinn," Brittany stops her from moving out of the booth, forcing her gaze. "The only way we're going to get through any of this is together."

"Brittany," Quinn sighs. "Santana wants nothing to do with us right now."

"Which is why we need to fix that." she nods, the idea quickly forming in her head. "You need to tell her you've come to your senses about the storybook and the curse."

Quinn raises her brow, then stares at her quizzically. "You want me to take back what I told her?"

Brittany nods. "If you do and you make her think you're on her side of things, she won't have any reason to be mad at you anymore."

"Why don't we both just tell her then?" Quinn frowns.

"It'll look too suspicious if we both come out and take it back. Santana will know something's up." Brittany says, shakes her head. "And anyways it's more important we get you two back to a good place."

"I highly doubt Santana will believe me just like that."

"She will." Brittany assures.

Quinn stares at her doubtfully.

"How do you know?"

Brittany resists the urge to roll her eyes. "Cause you'll be telling her what she wants to hear."

_Obviously._

"I don't want to lie to her, Britt. I mean it's one thing to withhold information but to actually lie to her?"

"Sooner or later Santana will realize the truth and by then it won't have mattered if you've always believed or not." Brittany watches Quinn purse her lips uncertainly. "Just try it and see what happens." she sighs.

"Fine." Quinn gives in reluctantly. She stands to leave. "I'll talk to her tomorrow. I'll call you when I have an update."

—

None to her surprise, Quinn finds herself putting off talking to Santana.

She doesn't want to lie to her, wasn't even sure she could what with Santana's psychic eye or Snix sense, or whatever she was calling it.

To get out of it Quinn had even tried to convince herself that she really didn't believe in the curse, that her stressed out mental state had her delusional, so when she talked to Santana she _really_ wouldn't be lying to her, but then this morning happened (Quinn had woken up Anna and the name _Elsa_ came tumbling out of her drooling mouth).

After that she knew she couldn't try to deny things even if she wanted to.

She just hoped to god this next talk of theirs, whenever they ended up having it, didn't result in a break-up.

Quinn shakes her head, forcing those thoughts away. Just thinking about the possibility of _that_ happening made it hard to breath. Well, even _harder_, she should say.

Quinn slows her pace and exhales deeply while she catches her breath. This was a terrible idea - _god did she hate running_ \- but she'd needed to get out of the apartment and clear her head before Anna could pick up just how badly her stress was getting to her. If she was on her own, she would be enjoying a peaceful walk along the beach right now, but since she'd brought along Anna and Marshmallow that so wasn't happening.

Not with their energy.

_That's it_, Quinn thinks resolutely, however exhausted she was, _No more bacon_. _Just exercise_.

(You'd think with all the panting she was doing all she ever did was sit on her ass and eat bon bons all day).

"Come on, grandma!" Anna calls out laughingly, from a few feet ahead of her. "Let's go already!"

Quinn narrows her eyes and, in spite of her protesting muscles, picks up her pace, much to Marshmallow's delight. "You know, just because your batteries never run out doesn't mean you get to call me grandma." she pants out as soon as she's caught up to the girl.

"Is this your first time exercising _ever?_" Anna continues to tease, now with the audacity to start jogging circles around her.

It certainly wasn't, Quinn thinks huffily. She used to running to go with Santana every so often. Though how she managed to keep up Santana, the Latina lightning bolt, but not Anna is beyond her.

God.

Now thinking back on it, Santana had probably slowed her pace for _her_. Damnit.

So she's been out of shape this whole time. Great. Just great.

Anna stops, chuckling sympathetically. "Seriously, are you okay?" she asks, regarding her with a tilted head.

"I'm great, just dying." She waves off. "Don't mind me."

"Oh, well if that's all." Anna lightly scoffs, rolling her eyes. She looks back at her seriously. "Do you want to take a break?"

"More like _need to_." Quinn murmurs, handing over Marshmallow's leash to Anna before lowering herself onto the sand. She winces all the way down but sighs in relief as soon as she's off her feet.

"Uh-oh, I think we broke her." Anna says to Marshmallow when Quinn reclines completely on her back. She doesn't care about the sand getting in her hair on or on her skin - she has every intention of taking a nice long shower when they get home.

"So should I go find help?" Anna wonders in slight concern. "Because, as you probably remember I can't even lift up Marshmallow so carrying you back to the apartment seems highly unlikely. I mean I could always drag you home, but that might take awhile. Plus I'm sure doing that would only make you feel ten times worse, not to mention probably put you in the hospital for head trauma..."

"Anna." Quinn interrupts as kindly as she can, fingers on the bridge of her nose. "Just give me a couple minutes, then I'll be fine."

"Right."

Though her eyes are closed, Quinn can hear Anna awkwardly shuffle beside her, obviously unsure of what to do with herself in the meantime.

Before she can tell Anna to just run around some more, Quinn hears another pair of footsteps walking up to them.

Followed by a familiar abrasive voice demanding,

"You kill my snowflake, Raggedy Ann?"

Quinn's eyes flash open.

"_Santana?_"

Sure enough Santana was standing over her in her workout clothes, hands on hips, glistening like some kind of Olympic athlete.

_God, she's gorgeous._

Quinn pushes that thought aside. She opens her mouth to ask what she was doing here, but Santana already begins filling her in.

"Here I am minding my own business, listening to my tunes, when I look out across the beach to find Lucy Ricardo here standing over your seemingly lifeless body." Santana's gaze slides away from Anna and settles back on Quinn, explaining, "I had to make sure she wasn't in the middle of a body dump."

"Well I _never_—"

Santana's eyes rake over Quinn's body, assessing for injury. "Seriously, you alright?"

Quinn swallows and nods embarrassingly, suddenly self-conscious under Santana's gaze. She knows for a fact her sweaty self did not look half as good as Santana's sweaty self. "I just got tired."

Santana rolls her eyes, then extends her arm to her. Quinn grasps it instinctively, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. "Thank you."

"Sandy snowflake." Santana murmurs teasingly, as Quinn's brushing the sand off her ass.

Quinn blushes. "So what are you doing here?" she wonders, lifting her gaze. "I mean, you always go running in the woods."

This knowledge is part of the reason she'd brought Anna down here. She knew that even if Santana happened to be out running too, she would be utilizing the hiking trails, so they'd be safe from any awkward run-ins.

Or so Quinn had thought.

"Yeah well I needed a change of scenery." Santana shrugs, glancing around the shore.

"Hi again." Anna awkwardly waves when Santana's eyes happen to land on her again.

"Coma kid." she acknowledges.

Quinn just shakes her head. _Honestly_.

"It's nice to see you again," Anna nods, smiling, "You know when we're both upright and awake and you're not hovering on top of me in the middle of the night."

Santana stares at Anna for an awkward second, then nods. "Yeah, well I'll uh, let you guys get back to your running." she says, uncomfortably turning back to Quinn. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

Quinn grabs a hold of Santana's arm before she can leave. "Wait, Santana. Can I talk to you for a second?"

If Santana showing up here was the universe's way of telling her to have this conversation now, she wasn't going to let the opportunity go to waste. As terrified as it made her.

Santana shifts back around with a slight nod. "What's up?"

Quinn opens her mouth to start, but then remembers Anna's presence and hesitates. She and Santana look over in the same instant and thankfully Anna gets the message without either of them having to directly say it. Anna points behind her, sheepishly smiling and nodding, "I'm just gonna...yeah."

Anna backtracks a few steps, taking Marshmallow along with her, and refocuses her attention anywhere but at them. At one point this includes up at the sky, but that doesn't last long, as looking straight up at the sun quickly blinds Anna, forcing her to become suddenly very interested in the sand.

Santana and Quinn watch this unfold together before staring back at each other.

"She's special." Quinn offers at a deadpan.

Santana raises her brow, then cracks a smile. "You think?" she scoffs.

Quinn breathes out a smile to match, relaxing a little.

When the moment settles Santana's smile falters with it. She purses her lips together. "So..."

Quinn clears her throat. "So...uh, having Anna has been an adjustment and I haven't been getting much sleep lately." At least that much was true. "I let myself get caught up in Brittany's wild imagination. I guess I was just tired of being plagued by strange dreams, of not knowing the reason behind them and feeling crazy because of it. Then on top of it, I dunno, not being able to remember my past, especially Anna, just had me feeling guilty and frustrated, and just overly emotional..."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I don't believe we're characters out of some story book."

Santana frowns at her questioningly. "So you _don't_ believe in the curse?" she checks.

Quinn shakes her head.

"It was a momentary lapse in sanity." she murmurs, shifting self-consciously. "Stress will do that to you."

She could tell Santana was trying to gauge her sincerity.

"The other night, you just seemed so sure it was all real, Q."

"At the time I was." Quinn admits. "I just lost my head."

Santana doesn't say anything just nods, taking in her words. Processing.

While she does that Quinn decides to tack on, "I know we don't ever mean to upset or hurt each other but," She hesitates momentarily. "I'm tired of this one step forward, two steps back thing we seem to have going for us lately. I want to be with you but not like this."

"Me too." Santana agrees with a tired sigh. "It's making us crazy and that just keeps us going in this endless cycle."

Though relieved they were on the same page, Quinn can't help but stare at her tentatively. The way she saw it, things could go one of two ways. They could continue to try and power through or _not_. "Do you still want to be with me?"

She wouldn't blame Santana if she didn't, this craziness that surrounded them was a lot to take, but she crossed her fingers that wasn't the case.

Though Santana seems genuinely surprised by the question, she doesn't answer her right away.

"Do _you_ still want to be with me?" Santana then asks, just as cautiously.

Quinn steps forward and presses her lips softly to Santana's, whispering against them, "Yes."

Santana's eyes close with a smile as she leans her forehead against hers, breathing in the air straight from her lips. "Yes." she echoes, before kissing her softly.

Quinn glances at her shyly as Santana slowly pulls back. "Are you free tomorrow night?"

"For you I'm free every night." Hearing that out loud, Santana turns her head suddenly, rolling her eyes at how lame she sounded. "God I'm so whipped."

Quinn laughs. "You have me just as whipped. Trust me." she promises. In that moment Santana returns her smug gaze to her, before kissing her again. This time with more _umph_. The kind of kiss she'd expect from a Santana needing to reconnect.

Though the heat of Santana's lips scorches through her addictively, making her breath catch and pulse race, Quinn pulls back before either of them can get carried away. As much as she just wanted to lose herself in Santana, they were out in public with her little sister probably most definitely watching them and she wasn't about to give her a show.

Quinn clears her throat. "My place then." she continues, still slightly dazed. Her hand skims Santana's cheek lovingly. "Tomorrow. Just you and me. I'll ask Brittany if Anna can sleepover. I doubt she'll say no, they love spending time together."

Santana's lips quirk up.

"Get rid of the dog too and you got yourself a date."

—

_Early morning finds Red wandering the castle halls._

_As much as she didn't like being up early, she found it hard to sleep in an unfamiliar place. Especially when said unfamiliar place now knew about her er, wolfness. After she told Elsa about it, she figured it best to come clean to Anna and the rest of the castle. Just in case. She didn't expect anything bad to happen, obviously, but she didn't want anyone thinking she was trying to hide anything during her stay here._

_She was feeling pretty good about her decision to be upfront and honest, that is, until the looks and whispering started. It wasn't anything Red wasn't used to but it was annoying all the same. She guessed it wasn't the castle staff's fault if they were so wary of outsiders, considering recent events with that southern prince guy trying to take over Arendelle, but knowing that really didn't make her feel any better. If anything it left her slightly paranoid because now she really had to watch her back, just in case some rogue soldier or deranged groundskeeper decided it was their civic duty to protect the lives of the last two living heirs to the throne by offing the crazed wolf who just happened to double as a fine ass maiden._

_At that thought, Red peers over her shoulder._

_Ok._

_All good._

_Red pushes through the door leading into the kitchen. Thankfully none of the staff was around. She was in no mood to deal with their walking on eggshells routine. Walking around the counter, she grabs herself a knife, an apple, and some cheese and bread, then takes to a stool._

_She eats her breakfast in contented silence, listening to Elsa pace around in her study on the second floor - if anyone asks, she'll deny - but thinking of what she was going to do with herself until Rapunzel woke up or Elsa decided to give herself a work break._

_Halfway into her apple, Red picks up oncoming footsteps. She sighs to herself, prepared for one of the cooks or maids to step through the door._

_"Good morning, Red!"_

_Red looks over her shoulder and frowns as Anna skips into the room, looking surprisingly bright-eyed for a girl who usually couldn't be bothered before noon._

_"Anna." she acknowledges, eyeing the girl warily. She obviously was up early for a reason. "What's with the smile?"_

_"As if you didn't already know." Anna scoffs, a sly grin on her face as she slides into the stool opposite Red and leans forward. "So you and my sister, eh? My sister and you. You two gals. Las dos chicas."_

_Red chews around her food, confused by the kid's waggling eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"_

_Anna pulls back and rolls her eyes in exasperation. "You and Elsa. Duh."_

_"Yeah, I got that already." she frowns. "What about us?"_

_Anna bounds upright and the sudden motion admittedly makes Red jump. "So you admit it!" Anna declares triumphantly, pointing an accusing finger at Red. "You two are now an we, I mean an us." Anna's face screws up unsurely. "I mean, not us as in me included. Obviously. Us as you two, not me."_

_The fuck?_

_Red rubs at her temple. It was too early for this shit. "Did you roll off your bed and fall on your head again? You gotta stop doing that, kid."_

_"Don't try to change the subject, Red." Anna scowls, stealing one of her apple slices. "I know you and Elsa are...well, you know."_

_Red's eyes narrow defensively. "Elsa and I are what?"_

_"You two are doing something together!" Anna exclaims. "I don't know exactly what and frankly I don't want to but I'm observant, I know. It's so obvious. I mean, god the way you two look at each other. If I didn't find it so endearing I'd be like, totally grossed out."_

_Red grimaces. Apparently princess never learned to chew with her mouth closed. "What do you mean we look at each other?"_

_"Oh you know," Anna reaches over and tears her piece of bread in half, taking it for herself. "She looks at you when she thinks you're not looking, you look at her when you think she's not looking." Anna shakes her head to herself, her smiling broadening. "You have no idea what a big deal this is!" she enthuses, meeting Red's gaze. "I've never seen her look at anyone before! I mean obviously she looks at people, she doesn't just walk around with her eyes shut all the time, that would be ridiculous, not to mention dangerous, I mean she's never taken an interest in another person before! And a girl at that! This is so cool! No pun intended, ha."_

_Red stares at her in vague understanding, but admittedly was still processing that garbled mess. "Are you saying Elsa likes me?"  
_

_"Duh!" Anna exaggerates, throwing her arms out grandly. "Haven't you been paying attention to a word I've been saying?"_

_Red goes back to what's left of her breakfast, shaking her head. "You're crazy."_

_Anna rears back, spluttering indignantly. "I am not. I mean, I may not have much experience with dating and relationships and admittedly I'm still figuring out my sister but you two definitely have something going on there! She likes you and you clearly like her!"_

_"I do not!" Red snaps. "I mean, of course I like her," She rolls her eyes, why was she even explaining herself? "But as a friend." She shakes her head incredulously, "I barely know the girl!"_

_"If you don't like her like that why are you getting all defensive and red, huh?" Anna inquires teasingly, unconvinced._

_Red maintains her glare._

_"I'm not into your sister."_

_"If you're gonna try and lie, do it about something that isn't so obvious." Anna advises. "You're totally captivated by Elsa." she states matter-of-factly, grinning. "Not that I blame you. My sister is quite the catch."_

_Red scoffs. "I'm sure she is." she murmurs, still discomforted._

_Though she doesn't mean it to, that remark comes off sounding sarcastic and the next thing Red knows Arendelle Princess, Hidden Warrior is slamming her hands down on the wooden counter and standing in offense, her mouth gaping open. "What? You think my sister's not good enough for you or something? Are you some kind of werewolf supremacist? Huh? Is that it, punk? You know just because we don't all fluff out on the full moon doesn't mean we're beneath you!"_

_Red stares at her, completely taken aback._

_What the—_

_Wait a second._

_Did she just say _fluff out?

_"Would you calm yourself, kid?" Red shakes her head and swears. "Fuck, I don't think I'm better than her or anything. I'm just saying you have things wrong. I'm not into her like that."_

_Red's scowl deepens when she's met with nothing but an 'are you kidding me right now?' look._

_"Well I'm not."_

_Anna rolls her eyes and nods indulgently. "Okay, Red." She slides off her stool and makes her way around the counter. "You know, this is gonna be great, Elsa has been overworking herself since the Thaw and she could benefit having someone laid back around her, God knows she won't listen to me, and you are so good with her..." Anna tapers off, sighing and smiling._

_Red shakes her head in disbelief and interrupts Anna before she can continue (which she definitely looked about to). "You barely know me and you're setting me up with your sister?"_

_Anna's hands fly to her hips. "I'll have you know I'm a great judge of character!"_

_(She says like it's the most obvious thing in the world)._

_"Forgive me if I don't trust the judgment of a girl who agreed to marry a guy ten minutes after she started talking to him."_

_"I was young and naive!" Anna defends, appalled she'd even use that against her._

_"That was what, six months ago?"_

_"Younger." Anna glares. "I was younger."_

_"Too young to be getting engaged at all if you ask me." After all Anna couldn't be more than fifteen - practically still a child for Pete's sake. "Doesn't this kingdom have rules against that kind of thing?"_

_"My mom was my age when she was married to my dad."  
_

_Red makes a face. "That's gross."_

_"That's royalty." Anna shrugs._

_Red shakes her head, standing up to leave._

_"Okay, look," Anna sighs, discretely moving in front of her. "Maybe I _did_ have a tendency to jump the gun and be too trusting. But that was before Whatshisface Sideburns left me for dead and tried to kill my sister. I don't know if you realize this, but events like those can leave you with serious trust issues."_

_Red narrows her eyes, trying to figure out what she was getting at. "So you _don't_ trust me?"_

_"I don't not trust you." Anna frowns,_ _then after hearing how that sounded, shakes her head. "What I'm trying to get at is where Elsa is concerned I am very protective. And with good reason, I think. She's lived through enough trauma and hurt for one lifetime and I'm not about to let anybody add to it. So naturally when I first picked up on your looky looks directed at my sister, I freaked out, planned your immediate deportation—"_

_"Racist."_

_"But then I calmed down," Anna smoothly assures. "Took a step back. Thought of how Elsa would handle this situation."_

_Red raises her brow curiously. "And how would Elsa handle this situation?"_

_"Oh, I dunno," Anna waves off. "But I thought interrogating Rapunzel was the place to start."_

_Red furrows her brow._

_What the hell? When—Rapunzel never told her about any interrogation!_

_"I had to make sure you were on the up and up." Anna continues. "That you could be trusted. But mostly importantly that you were not only someone that could be good to my sister but good for her."_

_"And you've reached the conclusion that I am." Red finishes, unsure of how that made her feel exactly.  
_

_"Taking into consideration Rapunzel's glowing deposition and evidence from my own private investigation, yes." Anna nods, confirming, "I wouldn't even be entertaining any thoughts of you anywhere near my sister, let alone thoughts of you as my maybe—I hope so—definitely, why not?—future sister-in-law, if I thought you were someone with anything less than honorable intentions."_

_Red balks at the word _sister-in-law_._

_"Let's be clear," Red clears her throat when she feels it tighten up on her. "I don't have any intentions when it comes to your sister. I'm just here because Rapunzel needed moral support."_

_"Sure, sure." Anna dismisses. "No intentions whatsoever. Uh-huh. Got it."_

_"You should know that I'm not afraid of wolves, by the way. Like at all. In fact I took on a whole pack once, no big deal." Anna buffs her nails on her shirt casually. "Fended them off with nothing but my own prowess and Kristoff's lute. I was like," Anna pops up and mimes the act, rounding off with a swinging hit, then 'eeps' when she overbalances into Red's arms._

_"Whoops."_

_Red can only shake her head as Anna scrambles to get herself upright. How this weirdo ginger and Elsa were related was beyond her. _

_"Right. Anyways," Anna says, smoothing down her dress and shifting back into serious, protective sister mode. "I'm just mentioning it in the super off chance that you do hurt my sister in some way, shape, or form. Because I have no problem going wolf hunting and making a fur skin hat outta you and using the rest of you as a cape."  
_

_Red throws her head back, groaning, "I don't even like your sister, god."_

_"Liar liar, fur on fire!"_

_—_I SET FIRE TO THE RAIN, WATCHED IT POUR AS I TOUCHED YOUR FACE__—__

Santana startles awake and quickly reaches across her nightstand to shut off Adele's singing. She swears under her breath as she forces herself to sit upright, her heart pounding furiously.

"Man," she grumbles, rubbing the heel of her palm into her eye tiredly, that dream lingering in her mind. "That kid always was a dork."

_Wait._

_What?_

Santana stops, that comment just registering.

"You've got to be kidding me." She moans, head turning away, her hand dropping to her side.

Pushing away her covers and getting out of bed, Santana stands in frustration.

Admittedly, moments like these had her steadily becoming less and less sure in her disbelief of Brittany's theory, but that didn't mean she could accept any of it as fact. It was still too insane.

Magic _wasn't_ real.

Santana rakes her fingers through her hair. She didn't believe but she didn't _not_ believe, necessarily. She was in a weird in-between place. She was like, in limbo.

_God._

Her head dropping, Santana's eyes screw shut. "I need my fucking head examined."

None of this craziness seemed likely to stop any time soon and she honestly didn't know what to do about it. But what could she do, really?

Santana opens her eyes and looks to the floor where, half-hidden under some clothes, peeks out Brittany's storybook. Santana picks it up, with half a mind to chuck it out the window for all the headaches it's caused her, but instead begins searching through it again, if only as a last ditch effort to find some kind of real world proof she didn't catch before.

There, of course, isn't any. There isn't anything but the stories themselves. No author name, no copyright date, no publisher information, nothing that would give away this book as another product of mass production. And not something _else_.

Santana slaps the book shut and tosses it onto her bed.

Real or not, she would not let this curse make her late for work. Again.

On her way to the restaurante Santana hurries along the main street of town. But something in the air makes her turn her head and sure enough, across the street, was Quinn along with Anna. The two were sitting on the curb outside the candy shop, eating chocolates. Anna was talking animatedly about something and Quinn was laughing and surprisingly Santana found herself not hating the sight. Not that she didn't like seeing Quinn happy, she did, she just wasn't sure about Anna yet.

(It's probably the universal 'gingers don't have souls' fact of it all that has her put off).

She may have accepted the fact that Anna really was Quinn's legitimate sister but it would take more than a simple fact of genetics for Santana to trust the girl. Something which Santana knew she was going to have to do about if she wanted to get back on good terms with Quinn. And have it _stay_ that way.

Keeping that in mind as she continues on her way toward the restaurante - she really couldn't be late - Santana decides after some debating that she'll have a little talk with Anna. Tonight, before she meets Quinn.

It'll be as good a time as any.

Later, when her shift is over, and after she's cleaned up and gotten ready for her date, Santana makes her way over to her first stop: Brittany's house.

Since she's already practically dying of hunger already, she plans to make this talk as short and to the point as possible.

She just hopes in the meantime Anna doesn't try to steal her soul (gingers are total soul snatchers, fyi) cause she knows that'll just piss her off and she's been trying real hard lately not to lose her temper.

Anyways.

While Santana waits for someone to answer front door, she hears the familiar bark of Marshmallow from the other side as he rushes to greet her. She could only imagine how well the Tubbingtons were dealing with their house guest.

Her brief smirk fades when the door opens. "Hey." she greets, smiling pleasantly instead when Brittany answers. Santana bends down and rubs Marshmallow's neck with her free hand.

"Hi..." Brittany's brow knits together in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

Santana straightens up.

"I wanted to talk to Anna." she answers casually, not wanting to make a big deal about it.

Meeting Brittany's gaze, Santana resists the urge to roll her eyes at the skeptical glance she gets in return.

"Why?" Brittany frowns.

"It's just something I need to do." she sighs. "Also here." She hands back Brittany's storybook. "Figured you'd need it back."

"Thanks." Brittany takes the book and holds it against her body. The air between them a little awkward. "So, I'll just..."

"Look," Santana starts suddenly before Brittany can go get Anna, realizing she owed her a talk too. "I'm sorry for not being so," She struggles for the right word. "Approachable lately. You know me, when things get too much I need my space."

Brittany nods understandingly. "And I'm sorry about that. You got a lot thrown at you in a short amount of time and__—"__

Santana lightly shakes her head. "No need to apologize, Britt." she assures. "You were right. I wanted answers, you were just giving them to me. I'm sorry for pushing you away for it."

"It's okay." Brittany promises, reaching out and touching her arm. "You always come around. Our best friend bond is too strong to be ignored for long."

Santana cracks a smile. "Yeah, that's definitely true."

"Also it's okay that you don't believe me about this," Brittany says, lifting up the storybook slightly. "I know it's far-fetched, but I think I've finally figured out who can help me, well, _us, _with all this."

Santana's smile falters in surprise. "Seriously?"

Brittany nods brightly. "I just have to figure out how I'm going to approach her__—"__

"Brittany, wait a second." Santana interjects gently. But before she can advise Brittany against telling anyone outside their circle about all this, Anna comes skipping from the living room, unknowingly interrupting with, "Hey Brittany, what's taking so long? You're missing the..." Anna trails off as she catches sight of Santana in the doorway. "Oh. Hi Santana."

"Santana came here to talk to you." Brittany informs over her shoulder, stepping out of the way. She glances back at Santana. "We'll talk later, okay?"

"Yeah," Santana murmurs, watching in slight disbelief as Brittany proceeds to leave them to it. "We definitely will."

God help her if Brittany did something in the meantime and got herself into trouble.

Once they're alone, Anna turns to look at her expectantly.

"So you wanted to talk to _me?_" Anna questions, sounding doubtful and maybe a little scared.

"Yeah, I did." Santana nods before beckoning Anna with her head. "Come with me."

She walks down the porch step, but after hearing nothing but the pitter-patter of dog paws following her, she stops and turns around. Apparently Marshmallow had a better understanding of the English language than Anne of Green Gables over there.

Santana stares at the redhead hesitating in the doorway. "What?" she sighs, slightly exasperated.

Anna eyes her skeptically. "If I go with you...am I going to come back?"

Santana stares at her, face at a deadpan, and Anna purses her lips sheepishly before closing the door behind her and following her onto the lawn. Looking down at Marshmallow by her side, Santana snaps her fingers and points to the front porch. "Back on the porch, perro."

That way if he decided to take advantage of his off the leash freedom and bolt, she'd at least have a head start on his furry ass.

Surprisingly, Marshmallow obeys her command and climbs back up the steps, circling around before sitting back on his hind legs. As Santana turns away, she can't help but wonder when the hell he started listening to her in the first place.

"Shouldn't you be with my sister right now?" Anna asks, redirecting Santana's attention.

"I needed to make a stop first."

Anna takes a tentative step back from her. "You aren't going to kill me are you?"

Santana rolls her eyes, exasperated. "If I was gonna do something that would land my ass in jail I'd do something a little more worthwhile." she scoffs. "Like poison the Kardashians or something."

"I don't know who they are but ok." Anna replies, forcing a smile and nodding along.

"Look, Ginger Snaps. I'm here because I want things to work with Quinn. I can't _not_ be okay with you and expect that to happen." Anna stares at her in surprise but doesn't interrupt. "You're a big part of Quinn's life now and I have to deal with it. But I'mma be honest here. I don't trust people who worm their way into my girl's life right under my nose. I also don't trust people whose face looks like it belongs on the side of a fast food bag."

"I didn't exactly worm my way into Quinn's life." Anna frowns. "She found me not the other way around."

"I know that." Santana sighs. "I just..." She blows out another breath. She didn't like getting personal with people she barely knew. "I'm just saying when people get put in my life without my consent, I don't take it well."

Anna's shoulders slump. "So you do hate me." she mumbles miserably.

Santana rolls her eyes and reluctantly shakes her head. "No, I don't think I could ever hate anyone who makes Quinn happy the way you do." As soon as the words come out, Santana raises her brow slightly, surprising herself with how much that statement rang true.

Anna perks right back up. "You think I make her happy?"

"Well yeah," Santana shifts uncomfortably, finding Anna's bright-eyed smile hella creepy. "Come on, you have to know that." she huffs, resisting the urge to roll her eyes again.

An unexpected frown overtakes Anna's smile.

"Would _you_ be happy if you found out you suddenly had to take care of a little sister you never even knew you had?"

"No." Santana answers honestly. "But this isn't me we're talking about, this is Quinn, she's—"

"Absolutely perfect." Anna finishes with a surprisingly dismal expression.

Santana stares at her quizzically and scoffs. "You make that sound like a bad thing."

"Oh, it's not. I know it's not." Anna assures frantically, eyes widening. "It's just," Anna throws her head back, moaning, "She can do everything! And on top of that, she's super smart, drop dead gorgeous, ridiculously nice to me even when I screw up," She lists each one off on her fingers before throwing up her hands in exasperation. "I keep trying to find something wrong with her and you know what, there's nothing! Nothing, I say! Nothing!"

Santana snorts in amusement, unable to help herself.

"Quinn hates cold pizza, that's proof right there she's got a little somethin' somethin' wrong with her."

After all who the fuck doesn't like cold, leftover pizza?

It's like, the _best._

Anna ignores her, much like Rachel does when she's too worked up. _God, the headache she'd get if she ever introduced those two_, Santana thinks with a shudder. "—I'm not good enough to be her sister let alone be mentioned in the same breath as her!" Anna rants on, now pacing back and forth which Santana furrows her brow at. "I mean, god I hit the jackpot, I got the most amazing sister out there. 'Yay me' but Quinn, she got totally gypped! She so got the short end of the stick, you know? She got a stump, that's what she got. A stump. _I'm_ a stump. A good for nothing stump who can't even keep her pop tarts from burning in the toaster."

Santana rolls her eyes. "Ok, first of all, Quinn's toaster is a white supremacist. Every time I try to toast a bagel in that contraption it comes out charred as hell, no matter what I do. Yet Quinn and Brittany seem to have _no_ problem getting their toast on."

A fact she was so not bitter about by the way.

Anna smiles a little at this information, but it drops just as quickly. "But I'm white too! Why is it prejudice against me?"

"Because you're a ginger above all else. Enough said." Santana waves off. "And second, cool it on the pity party or I'll be forced to slap you. Comparing yourself to your sister is pointless. Comparing yourself to _anyone_ is pointless. You're you. No one else on the planet can say that. Rock that. Own it. Being unique isn't a weakness, it's a fucking strength."

Anna puffs up a little more with every word out of her mouth. "Yeah!" She glances back at Santana admiringly. "Man, you should be a motivational speaker."

Santana snorts at the very idea. "Helping people is so not my thing. In fact it makes me break out into an allergic reaction. I can feel the hives already." she scowls, looking over her shoulder self-consciously. "I better go find some people to insult and give wrong directions to before I see your sister. No me gusta."

"Man," Anna laughs, grinning lopsidedly. "Quinn wasn't kidding when she said you were..." Anna trails off when she notices Santana's raised brow. She clears her throat quickly. "Lovely. Quinn said you were lovely."

"Speaking of your sister," Santana drawls, keeping her narrowed gaze on her. "We need to get one thing straight. I don't care if you are Quinn's sister. If it turns out you're some kind of deranged redheaded nut-job with ulterior motives and hurt my snowflake in any way, I will personally put you back in that coma, you hear?"

Anna swallows hard, intimidated, but only briefly. "Yeah, well, the same goes for you." she sniffs, raising her chin defiantly and folding her arms.

Santana quirks her brow, unsure if she heard right. "Excuse me?"

"Well, I don't mean I'll put you back in a coma cause obviously, you never were in a coma to begin with unlike me, but _as her sister_," Anna puffs up again. "I'm obligated to remind you, Santana Lopez, that if you hurt her again I will hurt you. And I can promise you it won't be pretty."

"Wait," Santana stops, choosing to ignore the déjà vu feeling that came with Anna's 'threats'. "You said hurt her _again?_"

"Well yeah." Anna murmurs, simmering down awkwardly. "That night you came to the apartment and she went after you? I don't know what you guys fought about - actually I do, it was me, I totally know it was. Sorry about that. Anyways she came back all hurt and sad and stayed like that until we ran into you at the beach." Santana looks away, not expecting to feel such a gut punch. "Now I know couples fight, but you don't get to do that. You don't get to make her sad like that. Not on my watch."

"I don't do it on purpose you know." she mutters, arms folding across her chest uncomfortably.

"Maybe not but..." Anna trails off with a shake of her head. "Just don't force me to, you know, kick your ass."

"You think you can kick my ass?" Santana repeats in amusement, scoffing.

Anna nods, her eyes sizing her up. "You're kinda small, I think I could take you."

Santana lifts up casted hand. "I broke this hand _breaking_ some guy's face."

"So you break easily, good to know." Anna nods. "You should probably drink more milk."

Santana smirks in spite of herself. "You know you're not nearly as annoying as I thought you'd be." Anna straightens up proudly. "But then again, what do I know? It's only been a few minutes."

Anna scoffs at her in mild offense before smiling again. "You know something?" she asks, following Santana back up the front porch with a little hop in her step. "I think we're going to be great friends."

"If you say so, Ginny."

Anna looks over at her, smile dropping in concern. "My name's Anna."

Santana rolls her eyes, then commands, "Get back inside, Little Fabray."

Anna nods but backtracks towards her at the last second. "Before you go, I just want to say that I hope you don't feel like you can't hang out with Quinn just because I'm around. You guys were obviously closer before I came into the picture but I want you to know I'm not looking to keep her all to myself or anything. I get it, she had a life before me. And still has one that doesn't revolve around me. I don't want that going away. She's my sister and even though I only known her a short time I love her like crazy. I want her to be happy. Whenever you two want to be alone tell me and I'll scram." she promises. "I'm a big girl I can entertain myself."

Santana nods. "I will definitely keep that in mind."

Anna relaxes. "Good. Well, bye, Santana." She waves awkwardly. "Have fun with my sister. But not too much fun. Or do." Her face scrunches up mildly. "You know what, feel free to have as much fun as you like. Cause who am I to say how much fun you can have? You're adults. Besides it's not like too much fun can lead to either of you getting pregnant, am I right?" she laughs, and for some reason Anna thinks it appropriate to punctuate her remark with a light punch to her shoulder.

Santana walks away with a shake of her head. At least Anna remembered how reproduction worked. It would save Quinn some of the trouble when it came time to give her the 'birds and the bees' talk.

Santana's smile broadens as she starts down the street. She was so gonna be there when _that_ conversation went down.

With popcorn.

—

Quinn's in the middle of getting ready.

The food is just about ready to serve and all she has left to do was fix her hair. She walks into the bathroom and makes quick work of it, knowing Santana would be here any minute.

She wished it hadn't taken a lie for them to get them to this point but she knew Santana wouldn't have agreed if she thought _Quinn_ thought she used to be a werewolf. After all 'Santana Lopez don't do crazy'. She'd said so herself.

Quinn just hoped wouldn't have to keep this lie up for long. It didn't sit right with her and she had enough anxiety eating at her from the possibility of being a cursed snow queen as is.

So wrapped up in these thoughts - she had her fingers crossed none of this would affect their date tonight - Quinn doesn't realize what she'd been doing to her hair until she gets a look of herself in the mirror. Staring at herself, she sighs deeply and begins carefully undoing the side braid she'd just finished, snow queen images in her head.

_If you want this night to not end with Santana running out on you again, you have got to get it together, Quinn_, she scolds herself.

A loud knock on her door promptly sends Quinn rushing to comb out her hair. The braid had made her hair wavier than she would have liked but there was no doing anything about it now.

She hurries to meet the now insistent pounding coming from the other side of her front door, while smoothing down her hair self-consciously.

"Jesus, I could smell that garlic bread from down the street." Santana informs as soon as Quinn opens the door.

"Hey, you." Quinn's greeting falters a little at the end when Santana breezes past her without a second glance, leaving her to stand alone in the doorway. To which Quinn quickly reminds herself that a Santana in the pursuit of bread was not a Santana to be bothered with distractions.

Sighing, Quinn closes the door behind her and follows Santana into the kitchen. By the time she reaches the counter Santana is already tearing into a piece of garlic bread fresh from the oven.

How she isn't burning her entire mouth right now is beyond Quinn.

_Maybe she isn't human after all, _Quinn thinks distantly._  
_

Faint amusement morphing into confusion, Quinn steps forward when Santana suddenly turns off the oven and begins fiddling with the knobs on the stove. "Babe," she interjects as Santana places the saucepan on the back burner. "That sauce still needs a few minutes."

Santana shakes her head, waving her off. Over her shoulder, she informs her through a mouthful, "We're going out for dinner."

Quinn frowns. "But," Her gaze flits across the counter to the meal she had been preparing for the last hour. "I_ made_ dinner."

"It's not like I won't eat it later."

"Santana." Quinn sidesteps in front of her girlfriend, blocking her path. She snatches up the second piece of garlic bread Santana literally just grabbed to ensure she had her undivided attention. She ignores the Latina's indignant scoff. "Stop for a second and please catch me up. Why are we going out?"

Santana takes back her bread with a glowering stare. "I haven't hung out with you for like a million years. If we stay here I'm just gonna wanna get my mack on." She explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "In fact, if it wasn't for this here garlic bread, you and me would be up on that sofa already, reacquainting my tongue with your tonsils."

However exaggerated that remark may be, Quinn feels herself blush furiously at the mental image it evokes. "And that's a problem because?"

After all it's not like making out was anything new to them and sure it's been a while, but she certainly had no problem spoiling her dinner with a little Santana _à la carte_.

"Because I'm _starving_." Santana dramatically moans, her head falling back and everything. "And at least in a public place I'll be forced to behave and focus on you know, the food. So take off the damn June Cleaver apron, put some shoes on and lets bounce."

Quinn rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Okay then." she sighs, untying her apron in a resigned manner. She's not even going to try to reason with a hungry Santana. "Where are we eating?"

"I can't decide on one place so I figured we'd just make a bunch of different stops." Santana says, her arms crossing impatiently while Quinn slips on her shoes. "I mean I want noodles, but I also want french toast, and then I got to thinking about chili cheese fries...I just...I need them all, Quinn."

Quinn looks up from her shoes and shakes her head at her, lips quirking. "You're crazy."

"No just hungry." Santana uncrosses her arms in a huff. "God, you're like a sloth today."

Quinn shoots her a glare. "Instead of just standing there why don't you call the hospital and give them a head's up? They should know to have their stomach pump ready for you."

Santana rolls her eyes and grabs Quinn's purse off the coat rack.

"On second thought, forget the hospital." Quinn stands up in time to be tossed her jacket. "Lets just stop by the cemetery in advance and make sure they have an open plot I can shove your over-bloated body."

"If you want me to eat your spaghetti, Q, just say so instead of being such a morbid smart ass."

Quinn flips her hair out from her jacket collar, amused. "When you say _eat my spaghetti_ like that with that not so innocent glint in your eyes, Santana it makes it sound like you're not referring to food at all."

"What an astute observation, snowflake." Santana drawls teasingly.

Quinn furrows her brow, a confused laugh falling from her lips. "Astute?"

"What can I say?" Santana shrugs, glancing over shoulder as she heads for the door. "Your smartypants Downton Abbey vocabulary has rubbed off on me. Now come on. Necessito comer."

With a roll of her eyes, Quinn follows Santana out into the hallway. Being preoccupied with making sure she had her keys and phone, she doesn't notice Santana suddenly whipping around in front of her until the Latina is literally pushing her backward into the apartment.

The door barely closes behind them and the "What's wrong?" doesn't even escape her before Santana descends and kisses her from out of nowhere. Deeply.

Not that Quinn was complaining but, _Huh?_

The kiss itself doesn't last long but the dazed feeling sticks around even after Santana pulls away. "Couldn't help yourself?" she guesses breathlessly, still appropriately puzzled.

"Don't flatter yourself, snowflake." Santana playfully glares, pulling the door back open from behind her. "I meant to do that when I got here. And I figured I should probably get it out of my system before we left, to reduce the risk of me pouncing on you in between meals. Now, _really_, let's go before I pass out from malnutrition and you really have to take me to the hospital."

Santana grabs a hold of Quinn's jacket and pulls her out the door with one swift tug.

(Quinn would've complained but the propelled motion enables her to steal a kiss from Santana in the process, so it all worked out).

By the time they get to the heart of town it's right at dinner time so all the restaurants already have a fair amount of people waiting for tables. But since Santana has built herself quite the customer reputation in recent months, every staff in town knows the procedure when a hungry Santana Lopez waltzes through the door.

_You either give her a table asap or risk heavy casualties._

Quinn would probably feel bad about cutting the lines if she didn't know this was all for the greater good.

Now seated at their third (and hopefully final) stop, Quinn finds herself shaking her head in awe. Santana was scarfing down a piece of steak like she hadn't just visited two other restaurants before this one and it had Quinn very tempted to request to their waiter if Duran Duran's very appropriate song, _Hungry Like The Wolf _could be played in the background while she ate.

"How can you even eat that?"

Santana looks down at her plate and god, that steak looked too rare to be considered safe eating. "Been burning a lot of calories lately, I guess." she shrugs. "I joined Rachel's dance class and the teacher's a real hard ass."

Quinn frowns at that statement. "How can you dance with your broken hand?"

"The same way I walk with a broken hand, Quinn." Santana deadpans.

"You know what I meant." Quinn rolls her eyes as Santana flashes a smirk. "Did your doctor even clear you for that kind of exercise?"

"It's fine." Santana dismisses, her focus dropping back to her food. "My hand feels fine. I probably won't need my cast on that much longer anyways."

"You're keeping that cast on until your doctor gives you the okay, Santana." Quinn states, shooting her a firm look across the table.

Santana just hmphs.

"So bossy."

"I just don't want you to end up with a deformity because you wouldn't allow your bones time to heal correctly."

"Fine," Santana abruptly sets down her knife and fork. "You don't want me using my hand?" She pushes her plate toward Quinn and fixes her with an expectant stare. "Then finish cutting my steak for me." she gestures.

Quinn raises an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Santana nods. "I can't very well cut my steak with one hand now, can I?"

Quinn shakes her head and pushes Santana's plate back to her. "Smart ass."

"Great ass." Santana grins back in return.

"So you've been hanging out with Rachel a lot." brings up Quinn, decidedly ignoring Santana's cheeky smile as she changes the subject. "Dare I say you two are friends now?" she questions with a hint of teasing. "Maybe best friends even?"

"As if." Santana snorts. "We have a project to work on. And okay, she's a_ little_ entertaining when she's not being super obnoxious, but I only hang out with her when I've got no other options." Santana shakes her head, obviously not wanting to get into it. "Speaking of short people, how's Ashley?"

"Nice transition." Quinn compliments wryly, eyes flitting up to shoot her a look. "And I assume you mean Anna?"

"Who else would I mean, Mary-Kate?"

"We don't have to talk about her, you know." Quinn says, her gaze dropping as she absently breaks apart one of Santana's french fries.

"I know." Santana shrugs. "But she's a part of your life now. And I kinda talked to her before I came here."

Though Santana kind of mumbles that last part, Quinn hears her perfectly. Her brow lifts in surprise. "You did."

"Stopped by Britt's house." Santana confirms with a slight nod.

"And what did you two talk about?" Quinn dares ask, dread already finding its way into her stomach.

"You, what else?" Santana responds easily, meanwhile drowning the rest of her steak with more A1 sauce.

"Why?"

"I just wanted to, you know, set some things straight." Santana finally stops and meets her gaze, sensing her obvious unease. "It was no big deal." she gently assures, sighing.

Quinn can't help the way her eyes narrow, knowing well enough by now that Santana's idea of 'no big deal' didn't necessarily match up to her own. "You didn't threaten her, did you?"

"Surprisingly, she's the one who threatened me."

Quinn shakes her head, suddenly utterly confused because Santana was sporting a dare she say _fond_ smile and this was Anna they were still talking about, right?

"What?"

"She's feisty that one." Santana nods, chewing while she talked. "And like, really protective of you."

Even though she still has questions Quinn is able to calm down somewhat. "Sounds familiar." she murmurs, smiling in spite of herself.

Santana's nose scrunches up at the insinuation. "Ew."

"She does remind me of you." Quinn maintains, chuckling at the horrified face Santana makes. "She's not a morning person at all, she practically eats her weight in food—"

"Well what do you expect from a girl who spent the past half a million years getting her meals through a tube?"

"She's weird like you." Quinn continues, still smiling as she steals another french fry.

"You're weird too, you know." Santana scoffs.

"She's also a handful like you."

"But you're doing okay?" Santana checks, and when Quinn looks up she sees it's a question of genuine concern.

"I'm just glad I had Marshmallow before her." Quinn nods assuredly. "As silly as it sounds it helped prepare me for all that energy." she laughs. "I don't remember ever having that much energy when I was her age."

Then again she didn't ever remember _being_ Anna's age.

Santana nods agreeingly. "It's funny how you guys are like polar opposites."

"We get along though." Quinn nods. She didn't know how or why, given their obvious differences, but they worked together for some reason.

Santana stares at her intently as she takes a sip of water. "She fucking adores you, you know." Santana sets down her glass, gaze unwavering. "Add that to your list of ways we're alike."

Quinn ducks her head, fighting an embarrassingly happy smile. "So," She clears her throat once her face doesn't feel so warm, her eyes lifting tentatively, "Does this mean I'll be seeing more of you from now on? And not less?"

Santana nods. "As long as you continue to feed me, yeah." Though Santana scoffs a laugh, Quinn could tell by the look in her eyes that she was being sincere. "No more being an idiot." she promises seriously.

Beneath the table, Quinn feels Santana emphasize that vow with a gentle, reassuring squeeze of her right foot with her own two feet. It was the best they could settle for since they couldn't very well hold hands in the middle of a restaurant.

Quinn smiles and squeezes Santana's foot in return. "Here's to no longer being idiots." she says, raising her water glass.

Santana meets her glass, grinning unabashedly. "Damn straight."

After dinner - or rather Santana's last dinner stop - the two of them walk and talk around town for a little while, letting their meals digest, before returning to the apartment.

"Now what do you want to do?" Quinn asks once they've hung up their jackets.

Santana tilts her head contemplatively, hands resting on her hips, as she stands in the middle of the living room. "Play some music." she decides after a moment.

Quinn raises her brow at the request, for some reason it being the last thing she'd expected, but complies. She walks over to her stereo. "Anything in particular?"

"Just something we can dance to." Santana answers.

Quinn nods and goes about searching through her Ipod until she realizes, "Slow or fast?"

"Slow."

Quinn smiles to herself as she selects a playlist. "Feeling romantic, huh?" she questions playfully, slowly making her way back to the Latina. Behind her soft, romantic music begins to filter out of the speakers.

Santana shrugs noncommittally. "Maybe." She takes Quinn's hand once she's within reach and closes the gap between them. She keeps their fingers intertwined.

Quinn smiles in amusement as Santana takes her free hand and moves it to her shoulder, then slides her own hand down and around to the small of Quinn's back. "Promise to catch me if I swoon?" she teases.

Santana just rolls her eyes. "When you gonna update your tunes, snowflake?" she asks instead when the song that was playing registers. "'_We've Got Tonight'_, really? That's like a song right out of Mr. Schue's out dated and totally lame '80's music collection. No offense."

"You're one to talk!" Quinn huffs out a laugh. "Your '90's hip-hop preferences aren't exactly something to brag about, you know."

"You say crap like that out loud again and Lisa 'Left Eye' Lopes will haunt your white ass."

Quinn holds back her laughter that time, though not without effort. "Sure, okay." she humors, nodding her head. "I'll take it back."

"You think I'm joking but I'm not. I saw it on Celebrity Ghost Stories. Left Eye likes to get her scare on and haunt white people, apparently."

Quinn blinks for a second, rendered speechless. Cause, what?

"I don't know what to say to that so I'm just going to keep listening to the nice music."

"_Nice?_" Santana scoffs under her breath, which earns her a sharp poke in the ribs.

"Ow!"

"Just dance, Santana."

"Stop trying to lead me around and I will."

"Why can't I lead you?" Quinn scoffs, lightly returning her glare when Santana takes control from her.

"Because I'm the better dancer." Santana says with an obvious eye roll. "If I let you lead, this whole operation will go to shit."

"You have so much faith in me." Quinn deadpans.

Santana stares at her with playfully narrowed eyes before suddenly commanding, "Dip me."

Quinn does so reflexively but can't help but frown at the smug smile Santana's giving her from below. "See?" Santana says. "If that's not faith I don't know what is."

"Like I'd drop you." she remarks indignantly, promptly pulling Santana upright.

"Sure, okay." Santana humors, effectively mocking her.

Quinn rolls her eyes, lightly shakes her head. She presses into Santana, opting to rest her chin against her shoulder. They dance in contented silence up until the next song comes on. That's when Quinn gets an idea. "You know what would make this moment perfect?" she begins, slowly pulling away so she can meet Santana's gaze. "You should sing."

Santana scoffs at her. "Pay me and I will. Ten bucks a minute, that's my rate."

Quinn resists the urge to roll her eyes again. "I'm serious." she sighs. "I don't get to hear your voice often enough."

"Just all the time in glee club." Santana points out, her brow raised.

Quinn shakes her head. "That's group singing, doesn't count."

"True that." Santana concedes with a nod. "Between Mercedes' wailing and Berry's shrieking it is kinda hard to hear anyone else."

Quinn nods and purses her lips, staring at Santana with hopeful eyes. "So...?"

It takes a few seconds but eventually she gets a relenting sigh out of Santana.

"_Fine_." Santana rolls her eyes. "But you so owe me."

Quinn bites back a triumphant smile and rests her head back against Santana's shoulder. She drops a kiss to the side of Santana's neck, then closes her eyes, awaiting Santana's melodic voice to fill her ears.

But, _of course_, that doesn't happen.

(Really she should know Santana by now. Always with tricks up her sleeve, that girl was).

"_Santana_." Quinn groans, pushing the Latina away the second her horribly exaggerated and purposefully off-key singing voice ruptures her eardrums.

"I'm just doing as my snowflake asked." Santana innocently smiles. "Can I help it if you don't like my singing anymore?"

"I guess this is what I get for trying to get you to do something you don't want to." Quinn sighs, reluctantly allowing Santana to pull her back into her arms.

"Uh-huh." Santana leans in with a triumphant smile and gives her a kiss. "That's right."

Quinn shakes her head. "You're impossible."

Santana shrugs carelessly. "It's a part of my charm."

Quinn just rolls her eyes.

Santana sharply turns her head as the beginning of another song plays. "Hey, I know this one. " Her eyes narrow, recognizing the tune but not the voice. "Okay, what lame ass singer of yours is trying to sing Amy Winehouse's tunes?" Santana demands, fixing her with a sudden glare.

"It's Sam Cooke." Quinn calmly replies. "And this is _his_ song, Santana. Amy Winehouse is the one who made a cover of it."

With that information, Santana decides to listen to the song for a few seconds more. She shakes her head, abruptly deciding, "Hers is better."

Quinn just nods, completely expecting that response. "Of course it is."

"But his version is alright, _I guess_." Santana says with a conceding roll of her eyes, when Quinn catches her humming along in spite of herself. "Shut up, snowflake."

Chuckling, Quinn kisses away Santana's scowl and wraps both arms around her neck. Wordlessly they continue to rock back and forth, content with the moment as it is.

Then, with their heads resting against each other, Santana comes in on the chorus and quietly starts to sing along,

_Cupid draw back your bow_  
_And let your arrow go_  
_Straight to my lover's heart for me_  
_Nobody but me_

Quinn hides her wide grin, knowing Santana wouldn't have been able to resist.

_Swoon_, she sighs dreamily to herself.

While Santana sings through the rest of the song, absentmindedly Quinn's fingers begin lightly massaging the back of Santana's neck. Her sweet spot. Santana would never dare admit just how much she liked when she did this but Quinn knows better.

"Okay, okay." Santana squirms away from her touch, arms dropping abruptly. She shakes her head quickly to wake herself up from that momentary daze. "Keep that up and you'll put me to sleep, snowflake."

"My bad." Quinn smiles. She watches as Santana grabs her purse, then makes her way over to the stereo. "What are you doing?"

"Your old people music is putting me to sleep." Santana states, taking out her own Ipod and scrolling through it. "It's too early for that shit. I need modern tunes. I wants to get my Rihanna on. Not get my Ethel Merman on."

Quinn snorts at the reference. "Your Rachel Berry is shining through again, Santana."

"Is not." Santana plugs in her Ipod when she finds the right playlist, setting Quinn's aside, and cranks up the volume loud. "And shut up." she playfully glares.

Santana walks back over to her purposefully, suddenly with a wicked glint to her eyes. "Now it's time to _really_ dance." she smirks, tugging Quinn's hips toward hers.

Quinn's breath hitches in anticipation.

Oh boy.

Hours later when they've exhausted themselves and effectively made enemies out of Quinn's neighbors (Santana refused to turn down the music for the longest time despite the complaints), Quinn and Santana decide to call it a night.

"Fucking hell, I'm hot." Santana groans, standing around and fanning herself, while Quinn turns off the stereo. "You'd think we'd been out clubbing," she comments, glancing down at herself and grimacing. "With the amount of underboob sweat I'm feeling right now. No me gusta."

"You said you wanted to work up a sweat." Quinn chuckles, flushed herself, unplugging Santana's Ipod. Walking back, she tries not to focus on - or smile smugly at - the love bites that now adorned Santana's neck. She might have gotten a little carried away but it was Santana's own fault, really. It was _her_ sexy club music that got Quinn so frisky.

(Or maybe it was Santana's not so PG-13 dirty dancing that did it).

Either way, Quinn can't really be blamed.

And anyways, it's not like Santana kept her lips to herself, so there.

"I need a shower." Santana declares just as Quinn grazed her fingers along her own neck, feeling the bruises. "There's no way I can go to sleep like this."

"Go ahead then." Quinn nods to the bathroom, her hand dropping. "Just don't take forever. I want one too."

God knows she'd need a cold shower after dancing the way she did with Santana.

"Hey, you wanna join me?"

Quinn blinks at her, unsure if she heard right.

"Huh?"

Santana looks at her in mild amusement. "I'm just throwing it out there, snowflake." she says casually, shrugging. "We can conserve water and like, save the rain forest. Like Jane Goodall."

Quinn freezes up.

_Oh god, she's serious_.

Blood rushes to Quinn's head, making her splutter, "I didn't realize you were so environmentally conscious."

"I'm all for being environmentally conscious if it means getting naked with you." Santana lightly scoffs.

Quinn swallows hard, trying to process this conversation without giving herself a panic attack.

"Why now?"

A stupid question considering how all over each other they'd just been, but their relationship hasn't exactly been stable as of late and Quinn could only imagine where showering together would lead and, as much as Santana drove her body absolutely wild, to be quite frank she wasn't ready for _that_.

At least not without preparation and research and several, _several_ bathroom mirror pep talks to herself.

Sensing her internal freakout, Santana returns to her side. "Hey," she starts, gently touching her arm. "This isn't like, my way of saying we should have sex tonight. I just figured, _hey, she wants a shower and I want a shower, why not just take one together?_ You know me I wouldn't spring sex on you like that. Even if we did just do some awesome sexy dancing."

In spite of herself, Quinn shares the small smile adorned on Santana's lips.

Just a shower, she thinks as calmly as she can.

No sex.

Just a shower.

With Santana.

The very idea makes her want to run and hide and drag Santana into the bathroom simultaneously.

(How that can happen, she doesn't even know).

"But I'm not wearing cute underwear." she protests feebly, feeling her anxiety start to cloud her brain's attempt to weigh the pros and cons. As of now she only had one for each.

Pro: Santana would be completely naked.

Con: She would also be completely naked.

(That con is what really had her conflicted).

"It's a shower, Quinn." Santana smiles softly. "Clothes aren't really the point. And anyways all your underwear is cute, what are you talking about? I'd know if you had granny panties, I've been snooping through your things before, remember?"

Quinn remains silent, too in her head to respond.

"Quinn, hey." Santana gently coaxes with a touch of her cheek. "Don't think too much into this. If your instinctual response is _no_, that's okay."

"It's not _no_." she quietly admits, feeling the heat of her face intensify under Santana's gaze. New experiences always made her uneasy but deep down she knew this was an experience she'd like to have with Santana, as much as her anxiety was trying to scare her away from it.

"It's not?"

Quinn shakes her head, faintly amused by Santana's surprise.

"Is it so hard to believe that I want to get naked with you?" she softly teases.

"No. I just, are you sure?" Santana checks, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Because I don't want you to feel like you're obligated to or something."

"I'm not." Quinn replies, smiling assuredly. "I want to. Really." She kisses Santana softly to put her skepticism at ease. "Start the shower?"

Santana rolls her eyes in mock exasperation. "_If I have to._"

"I'll be right there, promise."

Quinn chuckles to herself as Santana proceeds down the hallway with a deliberate sway of her hips. She waits for Santana to slip into the bathroom before rushing back into the kitchen.

Her stomach swims with nervous excitement as she grabs a plastic bag and some tape. A few seconds later she's pushing open the door to the bathroom. Thankfully Santana's still adjusting the temperature and hasn't gotten naked yet. She's not sure she'd be able to handle seeing her naked first thing.

Santana peers over her shoulder when Quinn comes in, closing the door behind her. Her eyes naturally narrow at the items in her possession. "Do I even want to know what those are for?"

"They're for your cast." she laughs, walking over to her.

"This is supposed to be sexy shower time." Santana complains after straightening up. "That is not sexy."

"You know what else is not sexy?" Quinn retorts. "Mold and stank. Which is what you'll be left to deal with if you let the inside of your cast get wet."

"You said stank." Santana snickers. Then. "_Quinn_." Her expression drops in exasperation. "Come on. I'll just keep my arm out of the way of the water like I always do."

"Santana just wear it."

"No fucking way."

"It's just the two of us!" Quinn exclaims. "No one will know."

Santana opens her mouth to argue but shuts it at the last second. She rolls her eyes, sensing she wasn't going to win this fight. "Fine." she grumbles, snatching the plastic bag from her.

As soon as they get her cast securely covered, Santana turns around to give Quinn her back. "Okay, snowflake. Now get me outta this dress so we can get our Rubba Dub Dub on."

"Okay." Quinn breathes, her nerves creeping back up on her. Swallowing thickly, she closes the distance between her and Santana and reaches for the zipper. But before she does anything, she looks at Santana through the mirror for consent.

Santana nods at her, gentle and reassuring. "Breathe, snowflake." she advises when Quinn shakily begins easing down her zipper. "It's nothing you've never seen before. Well, for the most part anyways."

Quinn blushes, vividly remembering Valentine's Day and the fact that Santana had totally flashed her.

With the zipper free, Quinn is left to watch as Santana shrugs out of her dress and pushes it past her hips. When her dress drops to the floor, leaving her in a matching red lace bra and panty set, Quinn feels her mouth go dry.

"So not fair." she murmurs when Santana turns back around.

Honestly. Her girlfriend was _unreal_.

"Your turn, snowflake."

Quinn snaps out of her daze and promptly tenses up.

"Q, I've seen you in your underwear before." Santana gently reminds, guiding her over her shoulder.

Quinn allows herself to be turned. "Yeah, but you've never seen me _naked_."

"You trying to tell me you've got a bunch of weird body abnormalities under here?" Santana questions lightly, shifting Quinn's hair out of the way before unzipping her dress in one easy motion. "Do you have a third nipple or something? An outie belly button? A phallic looking birthmark?"

"No of course not!"

Distantly Quinn feels the clasp of her bra being undone too but it isn't until Santana starts pulling down her dress, and Quinn's bra starts to go with it, that her brain catches up. "Hey!" Her hands immediately fly up to hold her chest.

"Hey yourself." Santana murmurs simply, dropping a kiss to the side of her neck before pulling away her arms. "And none of that. No covering up the snowballs."

"They're not snowballs." Quinn protests petulantly, but still safeguarding them from view.

"Here." Santana sighs and Quinn can hear the eye roll. "You obviously need something to distract yourself with while I get you naked."

Before Quinn can question what that even means, she feels herself being spun around. In the same instant Santana's tossing her red bra at her. Like, what? How?

Quinn looks back at Santana and just like that all her self-consciousness disappears, her brain suddenly only conscious of one thing.

"Boobs."

(To be fair they're _right_ there).

Santana smiles indulgently, lightly shaking her head. "Yes, Quinn. _Boobs_. You have them. I have them. Some guys with hormone problems have them."

Quinn follows Santana's every move as she bends to remove her red lace underwear, then kicks it aside once it was around her ankles.

_Good lord._

Santana looks up at her expectantly once she's completely naked. "You ready?"

"_Ready?_"

Quinn glances down at herself and jumps with a start, Santana somehow having managed to get the rest of her clothes off without her notice. Quinn quickly moves to cover herself again. "What the hell?"

"That's the power of Snix, baby." Santana smirks, rotating her wrist like she was some kind of magician.

Which she kind of was, Quinn realized, considering she did all that with one free hand.

"Come on." Santana gives her a kiss on her way to the shower, leaving Quinn to follow her.

While Santana dips her face under the spray, Quinn's gaze rakes over her back, mesmerized by the glistening water traveling along her curves.

"Okay, snowflake." Quinn's head jerks up with a blush, which only deepens when she realizes Santana had totally caught her ogling. "Look me in the eye so I know you're not about to pass out on me."

"Sorry," Quinn exhales, trying valiantly to keep her eyes from wandering down past Santana's neck. "You're just really pretty."

Really, really pretty.

"_Really pretty?_" Santana scoffs in affrontment. "I'm a fucking supermodel. Gisele Bundchen wishes she were me."

Quinn's chuckles softly as Santana touches her waist and proceeds to guide her under the spray. "You're a supermodel alright." She murmurs appreciatively, helpless but to let her gaze roam.

"I'm glad you agree." Santana laughs, before reaching behind her and grabbing the bar of soap. "Now suds me up, snowflake." she demands, holding it out to her. "Supermodels don't wash themselves."

Quinn rolls her eyes but takes the soap anyways. "Yes, ma'am."

About twenty minute later, Santana pulls back the shower curtain. "Okay, from now on we always take showers together." she declares, snatching up two towels for them. "Like, this is our thing now." She steps out of the shower, palms up, like she just had a religious experience. (In Santana's mind maybe she thought she had). "I mean, we get to clean each other_ and_ ogle each other at the same time. Plus I get to squeeze that fine white girl ass of yours sans clothes and you get to play with my boobs. Everybody wins."

Quinn steps out of the shower behind her, sighing quietly in exasperation. "I wasn't playing with your boobs, Santana. I was merely washing them. As _you_ requested."

"The most thorough washing I've ever had in my life." Santana scoffs. "When I looked down at my nipples I could actually see my reflection in them, they were that clean."

Quinn flushes in embarrassment. "It never hurts to be thorough." she murmurs, hugging her towel against her body.

"I'll say not." Santana smirks, over her shoulder.

Quinn follows Santana into her bedroom, shaking her head. Santana begins tearing off the plastic from her cast, but stops when she sees Quinn walking over to her dresser.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Uh, getting my pajamas?" she answers questioningly, glancing back at her girlfriend.

Santana walks over to her, completely naked. The towel she'd used to cover her body out of the shower was now being used to dry off her hair. "No clothes." Santana says with a shake of her head. "Tonight we sleep au naturale."

Quinn squirms a little, not sure she liked the idea of sleeping out in the open like that.

Santana takes one look at her expression and scoffs incredulously. "Don't tell me you've never slept naked before."

"And risk scarring Anna? No thanks."

"Not even when you lived alone?" Santana frowns. "Jesus. If I was on my own you couldn't pay me to wear clothes around the house. Just parade all day in my fabulous birthday suit."

Quinn chuckles as Santana struts over to the bed, not a care in the world. "I don't doubt that for a second."

After a moment of deliberation, and once she was sure her body was completely dry, Quinn hangs up her towel in the bathroom before joining Santana in her room. Now that Santana's seen all of her, and washed it, she wasn't so self-conscious, but she still felt a little awkward slipping into bed without clothes on.

"I'm not sure if it was our little dance party or our shower that did it, but I'm worn out." Santana confesses through a slight yawn as Quinn turns on her side, facing her.

"Mm-hmm." Quinn agrees, sighing softly at the feel of her sheets against her bare skin. _Okay maybe this wasn't so bad after all_. "Me too."

Her eyes fall shut in content as Santana leans in close and begins nuzzling her cheek with her nose.

"You're naked." she sing-songs quietly, her tone teasing.

"And your hands are wandering."

Santana laughs and moves her hands up from her ass. "My bad."

Quinn chuckles and opens her eyes. She touches her hand to Santana's face, fingertips tracing along her dimpled cheek.

"_If you rub my cheek I may or may not grant you three wishes. No promises though._"

At first Quinn smiles at those words, her mind flashing back to a moment in the woods where Santana had said those exact words to her.

Only to remember that it hadn't been _Santana_ to say them.

Santana notices the way her smile falters.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." she sighs, resuming her ministrations.

Thankfully Santana leaves it at that. "Typical snowflake." she murmurs sleepily, leaning into Quinn's touch. "You could feel me up any which way you wanted right now and you choose to go for the face." Santana rolls her eyes mockingly before allowing her eyes to drift closed.

Quinn laughs gently. "I think I've felt you up enough for one evening."

Santana cracks an eye open, a smug smile playing across her lips. "So you admit it, you _were_ feeling me up in the shower! I knew it."

Quinn shakes her head and kisses those soft pillowy lips that she couldn't get enough of. "_Goodnight_, Santana."

"I'll say it was."

—

For the first time in what feels like a long time, Santana wakes up without some kind of rude awakening. No alarm clock or abuela or weird ass dreams to bitch slap her back into consciousness.

Thank fucking God.

Exhaling softly, Santana slowly opens her eyes to find herself surrounded by a mess blonde hair, reminding her of the previous night. She and Quinn hadn't _done_ anything but the night still had brought them closer together which is what they both wanted. What they needed. At least in her case anyways.

Right now their closeness was quite literal, her front against Quinn's back. Initially she's too comfortable to move but as the sleep haze begins to wear off, she finds herself nosing around, nudging the golden locks out of her path until she comes into contact with the gentle slope of Quinn's neck. There Santana places a soft kiss over her pulse point.

Though she was tempted to bury her face in the crook of Quinn's neck and see if she could catch some more zzz's, after seeing the time on the nightstand and doing a quick calculation of how many hours she'd just slept through uninterrupted, she knew that wasn't going to happen. Her body, for once, had reached its max quota for sleep.

Quinn, on the other hand, was still out cold. A little surprising considering it was after eleven o'clock, well past her usual wake up time, but Santana figures she was just worn out from having a sister more energetic than a puppy hopped up on crack in her constant care.

For a while Santana just lies there, chin against Quinn's shoulder, content with feeling the skin on skin contact and feeling Quinn's body breathing against her own. At the same time though her gaze wanders, down and across, following the length of Quinn's arm. Santana doesn't know why but for some reason she becomes fixated by her hands.

She slides her hand over to Quinn's. Her fingertips barely brush against her palm when she receives a startling flash of Quinn, broken and hurt in her arms, her hands burnt beyond recognition.

Santana pulls back, blinking, then quickly shakes her head to get the image out of her head. She looks over at Quinn, expecting her flinch to have woken her up but Quinn was too deep into her sleep to feel it.

Her heart admittedly left racing, Santana glances back at Quinn's hand before tentatively approaching it again, half anticipating another kind of sensory shock.

Nothing happens.

Well, not at first, at least. As her thumb brushes across the center of Quinn's palm, her mind inadvertently goes back to a time when she and Quinn were in bed, in this same exact position (clothes on though). Only then Quinn's hands wrapped up in bandages, and Santana had been up worrying if she'd ever recover, if she'd ever be able to hold her snowflake's hand again.

Santana shuts her eyes and exhales calmly, resigned.

This shit _really_ wasn't fucking going away but she was so over letting it get to her. Or at least for right now anyways.

Shaking her head, she drops a kiss to Quinn's shoulder, then eases herself out of bed.

Once she's got some clothes on and is done with her morning bathroom routine Santana pads over to the kitchen to start on breakfast. She tries to keep the noise level down but she fails on that the second she tries getting out the pots and pans. Damnit.

The deeper she gets into the meal prep, the more she anticipates Quinn waking up from the noise, or from the smell of her bomb ass cooking, but snowflake was still nowhere to be seen or heard.

Weird.

When not even the tantalizing smell of cooking bacon coaxes Quinn out of bed like it usually does, Santana stops what she's doing and lowers the heat on the stove. Okay something was up. She walks back to the bedroom. Quinn was just as asleep as she'd left her, but had noticeably shifted her position so at least Santana knew she hadn't fallen _unconscious_ unconscious.

But still.

Santana presses her knee into the mattress and shifts over Quinn, careful not to make too much jostling movement. "Snowflake." she hums pleasantly, leaning down and nudging her nose against the blonde's shoulder. "Wake up."

Santana hears a small sigh but nothing more. Shaking her head, she pushes back Quinn's hair and starts lightly nipping at her neck and earlobe. "Wake up, babe."

If Quinn slept for any longer Santana's pretty sure she would start to mummify or some shit and that was so not okay.

When Quinn just crinkles her nose and shrugs her off, rolling onto her stomach, Santana sits back on her haunches and huffs. "Really, bitch?"

The only consolation was that Quinn's movement had caused the sheet to slip down a little, giving her a view of more skin.

"C'mon, snowflake." Santana says more insistently, throwing her leg over Quinn's side to straddle her. "I've got food for you."

Santana sits back and waits for a response but nothing.

Okay now Quinn was just being rude.

"You've got a gorgeous naked girl literally sitting on top of you." Okay so she wasn't naked anymore - like hell she was gonna cook bacon in the nude - but Quinn doesn't know that. "And you wanna snooze it up? You're a piece of work, you know that?"

...

Not even then!

That's it. Drastic times called for drastic measures.

Santana shifts off of Quinn but stays kneeled beside her. She promptly pulls down the sheet and begins teasing her fingers down Quinn's spine, enjoying the breakout of goosebumps she leaves in her wake. When she gets to that cute little snowflake ass, she rubs one cheek in a soothing circular motion before—

_Smack!_

"OW!"

Ah, _there_ we go.

"Afternoon, sunshine." she brightly greets when Quinn flips over, looking adorably peeved.

"You know I would never dare wake you up like that."

"Your fault for ignoring your insanely beautiful girlfriend who had the decency to make you breakfast." Santana shrugs, finding it hard not to smile at the bed hair Quinn was rocking.

Quinn sits up slowly, wincing. To Santana's dismay Quinn keeps the sheet tightly wrapped around her upper body. So no sneak peeks at the snowballs. Damnit.

"I better not have a hand print on my ass, Santana."

"Turn around, I'd be happy to check for you." she smiles extra sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

"I'm sure you would." Quinn chuckles, lightly shaking her head at her. "So, what did you make me for breakfast?"

"I made..." Santana's smile broadens as an idea comes to her. "A breakfast burrito!" She pounces on Quinn then, ignoring the blonde's indignant cry, and begins rolling her up in the sheets and blankets.

"No Santana!" Quinn protests laughingly, immediately trying to squirm her way free. But Santana expertly tucks in her sides, preventing any escape. "One snowflake burrito, order up." she wickedly grins.

"Get me out of this, now." Quinn whines, still jerking herself back and forth.

"Never."

"_Santana!_"

Santana begins easing off her. "Don't forget to put some clothes on before you come out, otherwise breakfast won't be the first thing I'll be eating today." she informs, stealing a quick kiss before getting off the bed.

As she heads toward the door, Santana hears Quinn's struggle end in a "Aargh!" Followed by a low _thud_.

Santana backtracks and turns over her shoulder, her brow raised. "Did you seriously fall off the bed?"

Quinn pops up on the other side of the bed, hastily getting rid of her sheets and blankets. Though amused Santana can't help but look on appreciatively at the mini-strip show that presents itself.

She wolf whistles and waggles her eyebrows as Quinn walks over to her, entirely nude.

"Jerk."

Quinn swats her ass on the way to the bathroom.

Hard.

Leaving Santana to swear under her breath. _Jesus._

She walks back to the kitchen, a slight wince to her step. The sting of it really fucking lingered.

_Who knew her snowflake was a genius slapper?_

—

Cassandra July takes a long burning drag of her cigarette and breathes it back out slowly. Smoking isn't smart, she knows, given her so-called 'profession', but she's never cared enough to try and find the will to stop. She blames her bad habit on her childhood fascination with those fire eaters you see at circuses. She doesn't remember ever going to a circus but for as long as she could remember she wanted to breathe fire. (And especially breathe fire _on_ the people she hated at school, ha).

Cassie smiles wryly at the thought and takes another drag. She obviously never got around to learning that particular skill but she's long settled for the simple pleasure of blowing smoke out of her mouth.

As another breath of smoke leaves her, she catches the judgmental glance from the brunette next to her.

Cassie just rolls her eyes.

"So are you planning on telling me what's going on or are we just going to stand here in silence?" she questions.

"I overheard a conversation at work that has me concerned." Shelby admits, her gaze still watching the street, and Cassie's eyes narrow slightly in disbelief.

_Overheard?_

Shelby didn't just overhear things.

Cassie turns her head, her lips quirked. "The staff stealing staplers and coffee creamer again?"

"It's of more importance than that." Shelby's eyes narrow.

That much was obvious but curiosity keeps Cassie from pointing it out like a smart ass. "So, what do you need me to do?"

Because really she had better things to do than stand on the sidewalk in the heart of town and people watch.

"To do what you do best, Miss July."

Cassie can't help the snort that escapes her, both at that remark and the formal address. "I'm the best at a lot of things, Shelb." she drawls, knowing the woman hated the nickname. "You'll need to be more specific."

At first Shelby doesn't say anything, leaving Cassie to see what had caught her attention. She follows Shelby's line of sight and quietly scoffs at who she sees coming out of the ice cream shop. Granted she doesn't recognize the blonde or the redhead but she easily recognizes one Santana Lopez. Cassie doesn't know what it is about that girl; she was gorgeous obviously, but there was something different about her. She had this strange, but intriguing, vibe going for her.

Maybe Shelby had picked up on it too, and that's why they were here. Why else would she have her eyes on Rachel's friend?

"I need you to run interference." Shelby clarifies, and it's then that Cassie realizes her friend's attention was not just on Santana, but on Santana and the blonde who, judging by the heart eyes being exchanged, were definitely getting naked with each other.

Cassie resists the urge to roll her eyes.

_God._ Young love was so gross.

"Why them?"

Shelby's gaze is unwavering, her answer simple.

"Some people just should not be together."

Knowing Shelby, that remark wasn't intended to sound nearly as homophobic as it came out, so Cassie just nods in response, even though she really has no idea what it is about a couple of teenagers that has Shelby so _on guard_.

Cassie takes another drag of her cigarette, then exhales slowly. She doesn't really care why, so she's game. "Whatever you say, Madam Mayor."

She's never had a problem with making trouble anyways.

—

Today was a good day.

On the surface Santana was enjoying the fact, but deep down she was also wary of it because it seemed like every time things were going good, they only ever got screwed up again. She was so over letting dumb shit getting in the way of her relationship but god knows it tended to happen whether she liked it or not.

Santana shakes her head, trying not to think about when the other shoe would drop. Right now she's strolling down the street, Quinn by her side walking her to work as she sometimes did, only this time with Anna tagging along. Quinn had figured she and Anna would have dinner at the restaurante since the latter had never been and they needed to eat anyways.

Having Anna around every time Santana saw Quinn was an adjustment but she was taking it one day at a time. She liked Anna, the kid was endearing and they got along (weirdly enough), which was good, but Santana still had her reservations. It was just her being protective of Quinn, she knew, but hey, anyone who had the ability make Quinn as happy as Anna did also had the potential to make her just as unhappy. It was bad enough Santana was sometimes guilty of being that herself, but she'll be damned if she let anyone else get away with being it too.

As they cross the street, Anna continues telling Santana about her latest misadventure at the market. As she speaks, she walks backward in front of Santana so they all could be face-to-face-to-face. "So Quinn ditches me—"

"You wandered off." Quinn lightly corrects, throwing her a look.

"Details." Anna waves off. "Anyways. Like I was saying. I was in the produce aisle, minding my own business, when this boy walks up to me and gets all up in my face. And before I can even ask why he's invading my sacred personal space, he's like, 'Carrots.'" Her nose scrunches as she mimics the grumpy voice before returning to her own. "And I'm like '_what?'_ And he's like, 'Behind you'. That's when I realized I was in his way and then of course I got all embarrassed. I moved aside but being so close to him I noticed he kind of stank and I told him cause, you know, I have no filter. I was like, 'No offense man but you might wanna stop by the personal hygiene aisle and grab some soap cause you smell like a wet animal'. And he was like, 'Reindeer'. And I was like, 'what?' Supposedly it was reindeer I was smelling. Does this town even have reindeer?" Anna asks, her eyes narrowed skeptically. "Or is _reindeer_ some kind of teen slang I don't know about yet? I think it's code for some kind of illegal substances. The whole thing was kinda sketchy if you ask me, but I still thought he was cute. Not as cute as apple boy though. Yowza."

Both Santana Quinn do double-takes at that casual mention. "Apple boy?" they question together.

"You mean Biff?" Quinn asks.

"Biff?" Anna wrinkles her nose distastefully. "Well that's an unfortunate name for such man candy."

"He is way too old for you." Quinn says sternly.

"Not to mention a total douche-bag who tried to get with your sister." Santana adds, equally disgusted.

"You and Biff dated?" Anna gasps, her gaze snapping to Quinn. "What, when?"

"God no." Quinn grimaces. "We are, well, we were just friends. Acquaintances, really. I don't really talk to him anymore."

"And with good reason," Santana murmurs, side-eyeing Quinn before staring down Anna. "You fucking stay away from him, half-pint." she orders, grabbing a hold of Anna's jacket at the last second, keeping her from falling backward into a potted plant.

Anna peers over her shoulder sheepishly. "My bad."

Santana resists the urge to shake her head.

_Órale._

"Maybe you should walk frontward from now on." Quinn advises, turning her around and placing a guiding hand on Anna's back.

"Try not to trip over yourself." Santana snickers, turning the corner into the restaurante.

Anna sticks out her tongue.

"_Rude_."

Once they're inside Anna immediately skips over to the counter, plopping herself down on one of the last two seats available. She liked to swivel around in the chairs and let her feet dangle in the air.

While Quinn joins her, Santana moves around the counter and grabs them two menus. "What to drink, kid?" she asks Anna, her fingers tying together her apron behind her back.

"Hot chocolate." Anna answers. "And two waters, please." Quinn adds, after shooting her sister another look. Santana knows the two have had many discussions concerning Anna's chocolate intake.

Anna pointedly averts her attention. "So, Santana, what's good?"

"Everything." She says easily over her shoulder. "But I'm paid to say that." she smiles cheekily.

"I don't know what half this stuff is but it sounds amazing." Anna says, her gaze dropping back to the menu in front of her. "I want it all."

"So order a little of everything." Santana says with an easy shrug, setting down their two waters, then Anna's hot chocolate. "It'll be on the house anyways."

Quinn raises one eyebrow just slightly. "_Santana_."

She tries to argue but Santana waves her off.

"How about I take away the hassle of making a decision and surprise you with something awesome?" Santana says to Anna.

"Deal." Anna grins brightly, closing her menu.

Santana looks over at Quinn who hands her menu back in response. "You know what I like." she smiles.

_That I do_, she smirks to herself.

"Just be sure that whatever you order for Anna has vegetables of some kind." Quinn gently pleads, ignoring her younger sister's scowl.

Santana suppresses her smirk and nods, already with the perfect meal in mind.

"Yes, ma'am."

Fifteen minutes later, Santana comes back with a large plate of nachos and Quinn's usual salad. She grins to herself as Anna's eyes double in size. "I don't know what those are but they're beautiful."

"Nachos."

Quinn looks at her incredulously. "Santana, for dinner?"

"What?" she innocently shrugs. "They're healthy. See," She points to the steak, "You've got your protein," Then to the cheese, "Your dairy," And to a tortilla chip, "Your grains." She picks up a jalapeno off her plate. "And of course your vegetables. It's like all your basic food groups on one plate. Perfectly suitable for growing girls."

"We're sharing then." Quinn declares, turning back to Anna and pushing her own plate toward her. "You're eating half my salad."

Santana shakes her head with smile and leaves them to it. Much as she'd rather hang around them she had other customers to attend to. From there she jumps back into her usual rotation of taking, placing, and bringing out the orders. Not to mention all the little tasks in between. Being dinnertime she's kept plenty busy but that doesn't stop her gaze from drifting back to Quinn every couple of minutes. Having her around in the same space is hella distracting but in a good way. Like good in that having Quinn on her mind helped her not want to strangle her customers.

Looking back at the counter, Santana's surprised to see her abuela there, talking to Quinn and Anna. She'd told her grandmother about Anna's existence - the woman had forced it out of her when she'd started sulking around the house and stopped hanging out with Quinn, demanding to know the reason for it - but this was the first time she was meeting the youngest Fabray.

Santana catches Quinn's eye and the two share a smile while Anna talks her abuela's head off. Santana chuckles to herself. Judging by her grandmother's expression, she'd gone into the conversation expecting Anna to be more like Quinn. Composed, polite, a little shy. But obviously she's come to realize Anna was the complete opposite of Quinn.

Santana waits for the rush to calm down enough before returning behind the counter. By then her abuela had disappeared to the back room so Santana decides to let her co-workers deal with the rest of the customers. Any more interactions - or bad tips - and she'll start getting Snixy.

She takes to drying the wet stack of plates while Anna's mindlessly rambles on about something she saw on tv. Santana nods along like she's listening but truthfully her attention's more on Quinn. She doesn't even realize how blatantly she's staring until she hears,

"Santana I think that plate is dry enough."

Santana jumps a little at the sound of her abuela's voice. She stops and cracks a sheepish, if not slightly panicked, smile as her abuela comes back over carrying the napkin refills.

"Yeah, you've been cleaning it for the past five minutes." Anna comments, her head tilted curiously.

Santana shrugs it off casually. "What can I say? I'm OCD."

"Does OCD stand for Obsessively Compulsively Drooling over my sister because you're so in love with her?" Anna teases questioningly, speaking around a mouthful.

Quinn chokes on her water at the same time Santana freezes up, because her abuela was standing _right_ there.

Oh God.

Anna swallows. "Why are you so bug-eyed?" she wonders, completely oblivious to the situation. "You're not kidding anybody." she lightly scoffs, brow furrowing. "And neither is Quinn. I mean she looks at you the same way she looks at bacon and we both know how much she loves..." Anna's words trail off as she looks between them, just registering their expressions. "Hey, are you guys okay?" she asks in concern, her smile faded.

For the longest time Santana can't move or speak. And she most definitely can't look back at her abuela.

Fucking hell.

When that other shoe dropped, it _dropped_.

—

Santana's out the door before she even realizes what she's doing.

Out on the sidewalk is where she finally remembers to breathe and even then she doesn't feel like she's doing a great job of it.

Shit.

Just as she pushes a hand through her hair, Santana hears the door to the restaurante open behind her. She whips around in terror, half-expecting to see her abuela with a machete, but it's only Quinn who rushes out, quickly closing the door behind her.

"Santana," Quinn breathes, head shaking, obviously at just as stunned by this turn of events as Santana was.

For a moment Santana can only shake her head. "Tell me _that_ did not just happen." she eventually manages, meeting Quinn's gaze and pleading, "Tell me I just had a stroke or something and that I just imagined it."

Quinn's expression turns pained. "It's my fault. I forgot to tell her we were keeping things a secret. I guess she just assumed—"

"Yeah well you know what happens when people assume." she mutters bitterly in response, turning her head.

"Hey." Quinn's frown deepens. "That's not fair, Santana. It's not like she did it on purpose. She didn't know any better." She steps forward, forcing her gaze. "This is on _me_. If you want to be mad at someone, be mad at me."

Santana deflates with a heavy sigh. Surprisingly she wasn't nearly as mad as she was probably entitled to be, but she was still pretty upset. "I'm sorry, I'm just..." she trails off, without the right words. "_Fuck_."

"For all we know Anna's comments went over her head." Quinn tries to calmly reassure. "I mean, best friends can have _love_ for each other."

Santana would've found Quinn's blush at the mention of _love_ endearing had her stomach not been so knotted up. "Quinn, my abuela may be old but she's not stupid."

"Look," Quinn moves closer, resolute in tone. "I'm responsible for Anna. So I'm responsible for this. I'll go back in there and talk to your abuela. Or we can talk to her together..."

Santana grimaces at that thought and instinctively shies away when Quinn reaches out to touch her arm.

"Santana, don't." Quinn quietly pleads, already with a sense of what her next move will be.

She tries not to sound indignant as she insists, "I'm not running away." She says even though she'd just taken a few steps back. "I just need a minute."

She takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly, trying to push down her body's instinctive response to just flee.

"I'm going to talk to her after you and Anna leave." she decides after some silent deliberation. Her voice isn't nearly confident as she wished it was but given this sudden turn of events it was the best she could manage.

Quinn raises her brow, obviously not expecting that. Hell neither did Santana. Not really. It wasn't something she wanted to do but Anna had forced her hand and she couldn't very well try to deny all this.

Not that really she wanted to anyways.

"Are you sure?"

Santana heaves a resigned sigh. "Might as well rip the rest of band aid off now and get it over with." she nods, as sick as she now felt. "This was bound to happen sooner or later."

She wished it had been on her terms but at least the hard part was over. Well, _half _over. That she really couldn't complain about.

Regardless Quinn still looks racked with guilt. "Are you sure you don't want me to be there when you—"

Santana shakes her head, lightly cutting her off. "Nah," she murmurs quietly. "I'd rather you not be there to witness this blowout."

Quinn tentatively leans closer and this time Santana doesn't turn away from her touch. "You'll call me as soon as you're done?" Santana meets her gaze and nods, smiling against the soft kiss on the cheek Quinn gives her. "It will be okay." Quinn promises, wrapping her arms around her and pulling her into her embrace.

Nerves starting to get to her, Santana just nods against her shoulder, deep down knowing Quinn's words to be true even if it wouldn't feel like it in a couple minutes.

They don't stay outside long. They give themselves a few more seconds before separating and making their way back inside. Anna's still at the counter but Santana's abuela is nowhere to be seen.

Knowing where she would be, Santana says a quiet 'see you later' to Quinn before slipping behind the counter and into the back. Santana takes a fortifying breath in the doorway.

Her abuela doesn't look up from what she's doing when she comes in. The woman had clearly heard her, saw her out of the corner of her eye, but obviously her abuela was taking a cue from her and choosing to not to address things.

But Santana knows her abuela. She wouldn't be able to deny what she heard, pretend like she hadn't heard it and go on like nothing had happened.

"Okay enough with the silent treatment." she finally says, breaking the silence. "Now that the cat's out of the bag, we have to talk about this."

Santana looks to her abuela and nothing.

She nods to herself, unsurprised, and musters the courage to say what she had to say. "For as long as I can remember you've always done exactly what you believed and never cared about what anyone else thought of you. I've always tried to be like that. You were the exception though. I always cared about what you thought of me, as much as I wished I didn't. It's why I didn't tell you I was..." The word catches in her throat. "It's why I didn't tell you I was gay." she starts again. "I knew you'd be disappointed. That you wouldn't see me the same way anymore."

She looks up, her arms crossed defensively, awaiting some kind of response.

"The looks you would give her. Looks," Her abuela slowly begins turning her head toward her but doesn't meet her gaze. "I've never seen you give anyone. I thought she was just a good friend to you. Those few you choose to befriend you hold in such high regard. One of the things I admired about you. How could you Santana?" she hisses.

"How could I?" Santana raises her brow and scoffs her disbelief. "Excuse me for wanting a relationship with someone I actually care about!"

"You think this is something to tell people, Santana?" her abuela demands, her eyes narrowed incredulously. "You think this is something to be proud of? To spread to young impressionable girl's ears, give them thoughts they should not have? This is shameful behavior, Santana. _Sinful_."

Santana rolls her eyes, trying not to let it get to her. "You're being overdramatic."

Her abuela just shakes her head, muttering about the scandal of it all in Spanish.

"Abuela being gay is not the scandal that it was fifty years ago." She tries to get the woman's attention but of course her abuela isn't willing to listen. "You know, I knew you'd react this way. I knew it. It's why I kept my mouth shut as much as it was killing me on the inside."

"You were right to do so." Her abuela snaps. "Secrets are called _secrets_ for a reason."

Santana shakes her head. "You're the one always talking about how love is a treasure." she says quietly.

"What you two are doing is not love." Her abuela counters sharply. "It's sin."

The disgust in her tone sends Santana's temper flaring. "Quinn makes me happy!" she exclaims, her arms dropping from their folded position. "Makes me feel loved in a way I've never felt with anyone else. I don't care what you say, that's not sin! Our relationship isn't hurting anybody."

Abuela's eyes flash then, full of anger and pain. "It's hurting _me_, Santana. The woman who raised you to be better than this."

Santana turns her head for a moment, jaw terse, eyes burning. Fuck she hadn't expected _that_ to get to her.

"Just because it makes you happy doesn't mean it's right." her abuela continues. "If killing made me happy, would other people tolerate it? No, they'd send me to the electric chair."

Santana snorts incredulously because wow, did she really just use that analogy? "Being with a girl is not the same as committing murder." she retorts indignantly.

"In the eyes of God it is."

"Your twisted version of God, maybe." she murmurs. "But not my God."

"There are no 'your' god and 'my' god, Santana. Hay un solo Dios."

Santana resists the urge to roll her eyes again. "If you say so, grams."

"This has got to stop." Her abuela firmly states, after pacing around, shaking her head to herself. "It _will_ stop, Santana."

"Me being gay?" she bitterly scoffs, almost amused. "Newsflash this is who I am. I can't just turn the gay on and off like a damn light switch."

"I cannot tolerate this, Santana. What you are doing is not okay. Not in God's eyes, or in mine. You..." For the first time her abuela's tone falters and for a split second, Santana feels hope, but the feeling just as quickly disappears at the woman's next words.

"You must go." her abuela recovers, her voice steady and unwavering. "Now. Yo no puedo mirarte. Not anymore."

Those words she had been expecting throughout this conversation but somehow they still managed to catch her by surprise. Maybe because you can never really prepare to hear a love one turn their back on you.

Nodding resignedly, Santana begins pulling off her apron. "I'll have my stuff out before you get home."

Her abuela nods succinctly and heads towards the door.

"I don't hate you for this, so you know." Santana says quietly, just before she can leave. "I'm still the granddaughter that loves you."

As she'd expected, her abuela doesn't say anything and simply continues on her way.

Santana exhales, albeit it shakily, as soon as she was gone. She'd worked this moment up to be a lot worse in her head, but as it turned out it didn't hurt any less.

Regardless, she refused to cry or breakdown.

Santana grabs her things, throws her apron onto the counter, then walks out the door without a second glance.

Her first thought when she leaves the restaurante?

_I need a fucking drink._

—

Her feet carry her to Neverland before she can think twice about it.

She's not looking to get wasted - she still had to get her crap from the house before her abuela finished work - she just wanted enough alcohol to loosen up the annoyingly uncomfortable knotted mess that currently is her stomach.

Once inside, she scans the crowded room, maybe subconsciously looking for Dani. They still talked on occasion and if anyone could relate to not being accepted by family, it's her, but since Santana's not in real need of a buddy who can empathize she's not particularly disappointed when she there's no sign of the former blonde, now blue haired, girl anywhere.

So she sits herself down at the bar, ignoring the lively scene surrounding her, and orders a shot of tequila.

The alcohol is burning its way down her throat when she sees, out of her peripheral, someone slide into the seat right next to hers.

"Well if it isn't Selena Gomez."

Santana turns her head unthinkingly before furrowing her brow, not expecting to be met with the sight of her smoky-eyed dance teacher. "Why are _you_ here?"

Cassie raises her glass slightly. "Booze. Obviously." she murmurs, lips quirked up at the edge as she takes a drink.

Santana rolls her eyes. "I mean why are you _here_, sitting next to me?"

It wasn't like there weren't a million other spots in this place she could be getting her drink on.

"Because I am way too hot to be drinking alone and so are you." Cassie answers candidly, meanwhile flagging down the bartender. While she waits, her gaze finds its way back to Santana. "Girl trouble?" she guesses.

"No." Santana scowls, indignantly wondering why she'd even go to that place. But then, of course, she remembers. She's in a gay bar. Drinking by herself. Half the people in here were probably drowning their sorrows thanks to relationship problems of some kind.

"You finally realize befriending Schwimmer was the worst decision you could have possibly made?"

Santana snorts at that but doesn't respond. "No offense but I didn't come here to talk."

_ Especially to you._

Cassie leans forward, eyes glittering dangerously. "Then let's not talk." she whispers, her voice taking on a sultry tone.

"I _have_ a girlfriend."

Cassie, to her confusion, rolls her eyes in amusement. "I meant let's just drink." she chuckles, taking the tequila bottle the bartender had left for her and pouring more into both their glasses. "Man you baby gays are so jumpy. Not every girl in this place is out to swallow you whole. Most, but not all."

"Considering the way you look at me during class you can't really blame me." Santana mutters.

Cassie raises her shoulders unapologetically. She sets down her glass, stating,

"Relationships are overrated."

"Except the one you obviously have with alcohol." Santana observes, watching Cassie pour herself another shot.

"Yeah," Cassie's smirk stretches lazily. "That's the exception."

"You're paying for this, by the way." Santana says, finally deciding to just take the shot and down it.

"How about you pay and I promise not to rat you out for being underage?"

Santana scoffs. "Or _you_ could pay and I could not mention to the community center that one of their teachers hydrates with vodka."

"I'm not nearly as good a teacher sober, trust me." Cassie mutters wryly, polishing off yet another shot.

Santana smiles in spite of herself. "How long have you been a teacher anyways?" She's not sure why idle curiosity has her but it's probably just the alcohol.

At that thought, Santana sets her empty glass down.

Cassie shrugs unknowingly. "For as long as I can remember."

Santana feels her smile fade at the blonde's choice of words. Goddamn, it always came back around to _that_, didn't it?

Shaking her head, Santana picks up her glass when Cassie refills it and downs it.

Three was her limit anyways.

—

Ugh.

As soon as she's awake enough to register anything, Santana groans to herself, pain splintering through her skull.

Even through closed eyelids she can feel the light from outside coming through, trying to burn her eyes out of their sockets. Reflex has her squeezing her eyes tighter, to block it out, but that doesn't do shit. If anything it just makes the throbbing in her head worse.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Santana pushes herself upright, wincing all the way up. _Why do I feel like I've got a fucking hangover?_

The hand that's just finished rubbing over her face drops as her bleary eyes squint open to assess her surroundings. Admittedly it takes a minute longer than it probably should for her process that this was not a room she was remotely familiar with. Like, at all.

But when she does, she rears back in confusion. _Where the hell...?_

Her gaze flits across the bedroom from corner to corner then, unthinkingly, down to herself. When she sees the state of undress she's in, she instantly goes from confused to straight up panicked.

_Oh fuck. What did I do?_

That thought alone is more than enough to make Santana forget about the pain in her head. Spurred to action, Santana quickly gets up, only briefly deterred by dizziness. She vaguely picks up on the distant sound of a shower running but she's too preoccupied with getting the rest of her clothes back on to give it a second thought.

She rakes her brain for memory, any memory, of last night, but she wasn't getting shit. It isn't until she's on her way to the door and sees the empty liquor bottles by the kitchen sink that something finally kicks in.

Cassandra July.

She was last with Cassandra July.

Santana goes cold with the realization.

What, how?

Her brow furrows in concentration. She vaguely remembers being in Neverland and Cassie being there, but she doesn't recall leaving the bar, let alone going to the woman's apartment.

God. She had been _in_ her bed.

Her stomach convulsing at the thought, Santana bolts out the door and takes off running. Instinct has her fleeing to her house but when she remembers all that went down with her abuela the day before, she skids to a sudden stop.

Santana pushes her hands through her hair stressfully, the spike in adrenaline she'd gotten from the exercise only making things worse for her already worked up body. Her heart was now pounding frantically inside her chest, practically in her throat, to the point where she thinks she might pass out from the force of it or just drop dead right here on the curb.

Ultimately it just culminates in her puking her guts out in someone's rose bushes.

_Okay. Okay. Just calm down_, she instructs herself, wiping her mouth with her hand, forcing her eyes close against the brightness of the day. She massages her temple, trying to block out the sound of her own throbbing pulse long enough to get it together.

Okay. Just because she woke up in her dance teacher's bed did not mean anything happened between them. She could've just passed out there. Yeah. And as for the being half-clothed part, she'd probably just gotten hot and shed her clothes in her sleep. It's not like she's never done it before. With the way her body temperature always is and then to add alcohol to the mix...yeah, totally plausible. Right?

Even then, how was she supposed to explain all this?

Her eyes nearly roll back in her head at the thought of Quinn.

Holy fucking shit.

Santana fumbles for her purse and pulls out her phone. As expected, she has a ton of missed calls and text messages from the blonde.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Sharply turning her head, Santana exhales hotly, furious with herself. Her fingers clench around her phone at her side.

Just when things were finally getting back on track with them, she goes and fucking derails them.

_Again_.

Santana slaps her hands over her face. Quinn is going to freak the fuck out when she tells her. Maybe even dump her ass.

Santana grimaces, the pressure back in her chest, making it hard to breathe. She's not sure she could handle losing Quinn within same twenty-four hours as her abuela.

_I just won't tell her then_, she decides rashly, wanting to stave off another meltdown.

_No, no_. Santana shakes her head, dismissing the thought as quickly as it had come. She couldn't lie to her. These kind of things always had a way of coming out. Quinn would find out one way another and if she tried to keep it from her, then this whole ordeal would look so much worse than it actually was.

Not to mention make her look even guiltier than she actually was.

Slowly, Santana resumes walking.

Maybe Quinn would understand. Even if she _had_ done something which, for all they knew she didn't, it hadn't been in her right mind. None of this was purposeful.

Santana stops at the corner, looking left then right and back again. In one direction was Quinn's apartment and in the other,_ not_ Quinn's apartment.

She wished otherwise but she was seriously tempted to just _not_.

Santana shakes her head of the thought and turns on her heel, knowing what she had to do.

About ten minutes later she's pounding on the blonde's front door. Seconds past while she waits, but they feel like they've dragged on and turned into minutes, giving her enough time to start to get antsy again.

Why, why, why did this happen to her?

Like, what the fuck universe? Her abuela disowning her wasn't enough trauma for one day?

God. She _was_ fucking cursed.

"Santana?"

Santana heaves a sigh relief when Quinn finally comes to the door, even if she was still scared out of her mind.

"Thank god." Quinn breathes, stepping out into the hallway and throwing her arms around her neck. Santana automatically returns the embrace, gathering strength from her comforting scent.

Quinn pulls back enough to take her in, while shaking her head. Going off how gross she felt, Santana wouldn't be surprised if she looked it too.

"What happened, are you okay?"

Swallowing hard, Santana reaches around her and closes the door, lest Anna overhear. "I need to tell you something." Santana grimaces at how grated her voice sounds. Like sandpaper. "Something that's gonna make you freak out."

_Then probably want to kill me._

Quinn's brow furrows. "Okay." she hedges. "Does it have something to do with the fact you're wearing yesterday's clothes?"

Santana nods her head jerkily and forces the words out before she can lose her nerve. "After I talked to my abuela I was upset and I, uh, went to Neverland to get a drink and calm down, and I guess I ended up getting drunk and something happened."

"What _exactly_ happened?" Quinn wonders, her voice tensed in preparation.

Santana exhales deeply.

"Cassandra July happened." she confesses with a ragged growl. "I woke up this morning in her apartment, and I couldn't remember— I _still_ can't remember anything. I don't remember leaving the bar or going to her place."

It was unbelievable. Her brain could remember a supposed past fucking life but it couldn't go back a few hours?

Quinn blinks in the middle of processing. "You went...did you two...?"

Santana shakes her head, her arms folding across her chest. "I was in my bra and underwear when I woke up, honestly I have no idea if I actually cheated or not." Her throat painfully constricts on the word _cheated_. Her jaw tenses, feeling helpless as her vision started to swim. Fuck. "But you have to understand I didn't mean for any of this to happen." she states seriously, stepping forward because Quinn wasn't looking at her.

"Say something, please." she murmurs, shifting her stance uncomfortably. "Or yell at me. Anything."

Quinn collects herself. "As shaky as things have been between us," she starts quietly, and Santana listens with bated breath. "We've also been sharing a lot of wonderful moments together." Santana manages a faint smile when Quinn lifts her gaze and she finds no hostility there. "I know you, Santana. I know no matter how upset you are, you wouldn't purposefully go out and hurt me like this."

"But I still hurt you anyways." Santana mutters regretfully, slightly groaning to herself as she shakes her head. As her gaze falls past Quinn's head to stare at the door behind her, it distantly occurs to Santana,

_Anna might just try and kick her ass when she gets wind of this._

"Actually I'm more concerned than I am hurt." Quinn replies, gently brushing a sweaty strand of hair out of Santana's face for her. Her brow furrows inquisitively as her hand drops. "You said you don't remember what happened, at all?"

Santana just shakes her head.

"Did she mention anything before you left?"

"I didn't talk to her." Santana admits, thought now kind of wishing she had, if only to get answers out of her...and maybe strangle her. "She was in the shower and I just bailed." She stops in concern, noticing Quinn's grimaced expression. "What?"

"We need to take you to the hospital."

Santana pulls back at that, frowning quizzically. "Hospital, why?"

Her gaze drops down, half-expecting to find a stab wound she'd failed to notice or something.

"Santana you woke up in her apartment with no memory whatsoever. Yes it could've just been too much alcohol but it also could have been due to something else."

Santana raises her brow at her. "Like?"

"She could have put something in your drink."

Santana's brow furrows in confusion. She didn't feel like she had anything sketchy in her system. She just felt hungover.

"Quinn, I feel fine. I mean, well, not _fine_ fine obviously..."

"Santana I'm not saying anything is for certain but we should probably just go and make sure. Where blackouts are considered, you can never be too careful."

Though she knows Quinn had a point, Santana can't help but turn away in disbelief. Shaking her head, she slams her hand against the wall, resisting the urge to punch right through it.

Godamnit.

_Why didn't she just go home?_

—

Santana steps out of the bathroom and into Quinn's bedroom, one hand drying her hair with a towel, the other holding secure the towel wrapped around her body.

She couldn't begin to describe how good it'd felt to shower and wash the grossness off her.

Santana stops in front of the dresser and begins pulling out some comfortable clothes. Her trip to the hospital, as it turned out, had been for nothing. It'd taken a shit load of required tests for her and a couple hours of waiting but eventually someone told her that she'd tested negative for anything other than alcohol in her system and that no harm was done to her.

Which relieved the part of her that had grown uneasy during their time waiting around in that god awful petri dish of a building and annoyed the other part of her that had known nothing had happened to begin with.

Still she knew Quinn had just been looking out for her and she was grateful for it.

Now dressed, Santana picks her towels up from the floor. As relieved as she was that things were okay with her medically speaking - minus you know, the hangover part of it - she still wished she could remember exactly what she'd did or didn't do last night. As sick as the idea of doing anything with Cassie made her, she still needed to know.

But that could wait. First she needed to fucking sleep off this headache.

Santana's just about to go hang up her towels in the bathroom to dry when a soft knock comes to the door. She turns, expecting Quinn, only to find the littler Fabray with her head poking out from behind the open doorway.

She hasn't spoken to the redhead since yesterday. Today Anna had stayed here in the apartment while she and Quinn had gone to the hospital and since they've gotten back Santana's been too preoccupied with wanting a shower and a nap to talk.

"Santana?" Anna tentatively steps into the room, looking all timid and anxious.

It's moments like these that seriously trip her out because Anna looks so much like Quinn, just younger and with different hair.

"What do you want, Pippi?" she asks without malice, passing the girl on her back to the bathroom. "Can't remember how to get back to Villa Villekulla?"

Anna trails after her, looking at her cautiously, of course not getting the reference. "_Are you still drunk?_"

Santana snorts in spite of herself and cracks a small smile. She walks into the bathroom and puts away her dirty towels. When she comes out Anna's still waiting out in the hallway. "So?" she prompts, glancing at the girl expectantly on her way back to Quinn's bedroom. If the girl wanted to talk she'd better do it now because Santana wasn't delaying her nap for her.

"Yeah, so, yesterday after dinner Quinn explained your guys' situation and I just wanted to say I'm really sorry. I didn't realize you two being together was like a secret. If I had I definitely wouldn't—"

"It's fine." she cuts off, holding up an assuring hand because she really didn't have the patience to listen to some long rambling apology.

Anna shakes her head, convinced it wasn't. "You can slug me all you want!" she promises quickly. "It's okay, I totally deserve it!"

Santana raises her brow in amusement as the young redhead proceeds to brace herself against an attack, clenching her eyes closed and holding her breath.

"I'm not gonna hit you, kid." she sighs, lightly shaking her head. Anna cracks an eye open just to be sure.

"As much as I'd rather not admit it, you kind of did me a favor." At Anna's utterly confused expression, Santana elaborates, "I don't have to hide who I am anymore. And I don't have to force Quinn to hide with me."

She wasn't looking forward to the homelessness downside of it, sure, but at least she'd be able to hold Quinn's hand in public now. Kiss her even.

"Still what I did wasn't right." Anna maintains, watching as Santana pulls back the covers on Quinn's bed. "From now on I'm going to make more of an effort to think before I speak. And I'm gonna do whatever I can to make it up for you," Anna puffs up her chest, proudly declaring, "_I promise_."

Surprisingly Santana doesn't feel the urge to roll her eyes. "I hold you to that." she murmurs, slipping in between the covers and exhaling deeply. "But right now I just wanna nap."

"Can I join you?"

Santana shakes her head uncaringly, hugging Quinn's pillow to her chest. "Fine, whatever." Not that her consent really mattered, judging by all the bed movement going on, homegirl was already making herself comfy. "Just don't cop a feel."

Behind her, Anna scoffs. "_I'll try to restrain myself_."

Though she smirks at the girl's sarcastic tone, Santana nevertheless donkey kicks her off the bed.

Anna yelps.

"Ass!"

—

While Santana showers, Quinn finishes up the dishes she'd been in the middle of washing when the Latina had originally stopped by.

Being at the hospital had thoroughly stressed her out and even though everything was fine now, she was still a whirlwind of emotion and she needed a distraction from it.

She was of course beyond relieved that her worries turned out to be all just in her head, even if it left her a little guilt-ridden for putting Santana through that ordeal in the first place, but the thing that was bothering her was this sinking feeling she had in the pit of her stomach.

There was still something about the whole situation that had her uneasy. Maybe it was just the Cassandra July factor of it all that had her feeling that way. (Quinn had never met the woman personally but she's caught glimpses of her here and there whenever she'd go to the community center to meet Brittany after her dance class. Brittany didn't have the woman for a teacher but it was hard to not pick up on Miss July's slanderous comments even from the hallway). The woman was obviously a nutjob and Quinn just couldn't believe that last night had been nothing but an innocent night of drunkenness.

There were still ways to take advantage of a person that wouldn't show up on any medical test and if she found out that Cassandra had so much as—

Quinn cuts off that train of thought, for her sake. She was barely keeping it together as was.

Shaking her head, Quinn refocuses her attention on the task at hand.

Once the dishes are finished she starts toward the hallway. Seeing the bathroom light off and door ajar, Quinn walks into her bedroom to check on Santana. She's not surprised to find the brunette fast asleep but she is fairly surprised to see Anna asleep on the bed with her, the two back to back to each other. Quinn probably spends a good half a minute staring at the bizarre sight of them napping together before snapping out of her daze.

Now needing another way to keep herself occupied, Quinn decides to make use of this opportunity and retrieve Santana's belongings from her abuela's house. While they'd waited at the hospital Santana had told her about her confrontation with her abuela and how she meant to get her things before the woman returned from work. Santana was convinced her abuela had thrown out her stuff and doused them gasoline on the lawn the second she realized they were still existing in her home but Quinn thought otherwise. Abuela Lopez was tough around the edges but she wasn't nearly as callous as she was perceived to be. Just like Santana.

In spite of this though, Quinn knows better than to be too optimistic when it comes to the woman. Which is why she wanted to get Santana's things, just in case. The woman might not make a bonfire out of Santana's things but for all Quinn knew she could send them off to Goodwill.

Sighing to herself, Quinn goes over to the side of the bed and leans over, dropping a kiss to Santana's forehead. Beside her, Anna was mumbling in her sleep about trolls again.

Quinn returns to the living room. On the coffee table sits Santana's purse and Quinn picks it up to grab her house keys. She rifles through the mess for a few seconds before finally coming across the keys at the bottom. She's just about to set Santana's purse down when her phone chimes with a new message alert.

Thinking it would most likely Brittany, Quinn grabs the phone to text her on Santana's behalf. But when she looks at the screen, it's not Brittany's name that shows up. There's no contact name attached to the number.

Her lips purse together as she reads the message.

_Last night was fun, S. We should do it again. ;)  
_

Quinn forces a calm exhale as her eyes flit across the message another two times before snapping.

_Okay. That's it._

She was getting to the bottom of things. Now.

Quinn shoves Santana's phone back in her purse then goes over to doorway and shrugs on her jacket while grabbing her own bag. "Hold down the fort while I'm gone." she says to Marshmallow on her way out.

Quinn pulls out her own phone once she's out in the hallway, making her way toward the stairs, and calls Brittany.

"Hey, can you meet me?"

—

Santana wakes up needing to pee.

She really doesn't want to move but her bladder says otherwise or end up paying the consequences. So grudgingly she pushes herself upright, first shrugging Anna's arm off of her, then gets out of bed. Carefully she steps over the sleeping Marshmallow on the floor.

She has no idea how long she's been asleep for but she knows it wasn't nearly long enough. So as soon as she's done with her business, it's back to bed for her.

By the time she's come out of the bathroom her headache was back at full strength now that she was awake enough to feel it. Damnit. Shaking her head, Santana diverts from the bedroom and walks out into the living room instead. As she rubs the lingering sleep from her eyes she directs a mumbled greeting to Quinn.

When Quinn doesn't respond right away, Santana drops her hand. It's then that she realizes the lack of an answer was because Quinn wasn't even in the room.

She looks around for a second just to make sure and when she still comes up empty-handed, Santana backtracks and sticks her head in Anna's bedroom just to see if she was in there.

Nope.

Santana scratches her head and turns around.

_Huh_.

Figuring Quinn just went out to get them food or something, Santana walks into the kitchen to get herself the aspirin. She grabs a glass from the drying rack by the sink and fills it with water, then picks up the bottle of pills Quinn had left out on the counter.

She's just gotten the cap unscrewed when she's interrupted by the sound of her cell phone. Turning around, Santana quickly swallows two pills and washes them down with a sip of water. She walks into the living area, at first unsure of where she last left her phone, but after a few seconds she remembers she hadn't taken it out of her purse. She goes over to the coffee table and picks up her bag, plucking the device from it.

She immediately answers the call when she sees Quinn's name flashing across the screen.

"Hey you," she greets, still sounding tired. "You go get food or something?"

_"Uh, no, not exactly."_

Santana frowns at the hesitation in Quinn's voice. "You okay?"

_"Uh, in a sense."_

"Okay, what happened?" she demands more seriously. Whenever Quinn got vague like that, it meant something was up. "Where are you?"

Quinn, to Santana's utter confusion, releases a humorless laugh.

_"I'm at the sheriff's station."_

Santana blinks. Then blinks some more, still processing. "What the hell, _why?_"

_"Well,"_ Quinn sighs, and Santana leans in to hear her loud and clear. _"I might've gotten arrested for attacking Cassandra July."_

—

Santana hangs up not long after that and, after making an unsuccessful call to Brittany, hightails it over to the sheriff's station with Anna in tow.

Once there she all but yanks the front door off its hinges. She doesn't break her stride once, that is, until she walks around the corner into the bullpen and sees not one, but _two_, blondes sitting jailed behind bars.

_Her_ two blondes.

"What the fucking hell?"

They threw Brittany in too?

Santana storms past the office desks and over to their shared cell, shaking her head. It was such a bizarre sight, if she wasn't so damn confused and fucking worried she'd probably be laughing her head off.

"What'd you two do, tag team Cassie like the Wonder Twins?"

Brittany rolls her eyes. "I didn't do anything." she clarifies. "But I wasn't about to let Quinn get locked up in here all alone."

"She's the first person to ever _want_ to be put in jail." confirms a voice behind her, prompting Santana, and Anna, to whip around.

"Good." Santana huffs, finding herself face to er, chest with a golden star. A sheriff's badge. "Some fucking authority." She shoves the envelope of money for bail into the burly older woman's chest. "Get my girl out from behind them bars before things get ugly, Brunhilda."

Well, uglier than they already were.

Goddamn, talk about a She-Hulk.

"The name is Sheriff Shannon Beiste." the woman glares, easily towering over Santana. Santana raises her brow at the name because, seriously? Something which leads to the Sheriff rolling her eyes because apparently it was a reaction she was used to. "Spelled B-E-I-S-T-E." she explains. "It's French."

Santana just snorts. Like that makes the name any better.

With eyes still on Santana, Sheriff Beiste nods toward Quinn, inquiring, "You her sister?"

Santana balks at that question for a full second, utterly disgusted, before going off. "Really? Do I _fucking_ look like her sister?" She gestures between them both frenetically. Because really, in what _fucking_ universe could her and Quinn pass for sisters?

"I'm her sister." Anna pipes up unhelpfully, raising an awkward hand, at the same time Sheriff barks at Santana,

"Watch your tone with me, Missy. You crap on my leg and I'll cut it off!"

Santana opens her mouth, a Snixy retort ready to fire but Quinn pushes against the bars, warning her, "Santana so help me if you get yourself thrown in here too!"

Santana holds her tongue reluctantly but maintains her glowering stare. "Just release her," she says through gritted teeth, mustering all the calmness that she can. "_Please_."

Sheriff Beiste looks between them both before reaching for the keys attached at her waist. Santana fights an impatient eye roll. While the older woman walks over to the cell and fiddles with the lock, Santana turns to Quinn, kind of needing to snap at someone. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"In my defense," Quinn sighs. "I only meant to confront her."

"One minute Quinn was yelling, the next she was getting scrappy." Brittany smirks, almost sounding proud.

Santana can only shake her head, incredulous. "Well you're just full of surprises." she comments, snatching up her snowflake the second she was free to do so.

She squeezes her tight for a moment before pulling away, still with a shit ton of questions. "But why?"

"I don't like her."

Santana scoffs at that overly simplified response. "_Quinn_."

Quinn crosses her arms defensively. "She's a lunatic who was looking to take advantage of you." she says, conviction in her tone. "No one gets away with that kind of behavior, not with you, not ever."

Santana's seen many sides of Quinn but she's never seen her like this. All intense and protective. And over _her_.

That's something she's never experienced before.

Staring into fierce hazel eyes, Santana feels her chest swell with so much pride and affection, it almost hurts.

"God, I fucking love you."

Quinn blinks in surprise at that but recovers easily enough, her lips quickly spreading into an adoring, happy smile. "I love you too, Santana."

Beaming, Santana pulls her in for a deep kiss.

But that's not all she gets.

The instant their lips touch, a flood of tingling warmth washes over her and with it comes rushing back with such clarity: memories.

_Her_ memories.

* * *

**AN: Man, oh man. That was a lot. And I've still got so much more to tell!**

**Thanks for reading and thanks for all the story favorites, alerts, and the reviews! I'm very grateful to you guys!**


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